Somerset maughan

part of my knowledge. And at last one day it seemed that a new 
window was opened on to my soul, and I saw with extraordinary 
clearness the incident which you had described. I knew suddenly it 
was part of my own experience. I saw you take me by the hand and 
pour the ink on my palm and bid me look at it. I felt again the 
strange glow that thrilled me, and with an indescribable bitterness I 
saw things in the mirror which were not there before. I saw people 
whom I had never seen. I saw them perform certain actions. And 
some force I knew not, obliged me to speak. And at length 
everything grew dim, and I was as exhausted as if I had not eaten all 
day.' 
He went over to the open window and looked out. Neither of the 
others spoke. The look on Arthur's face, curiously outlined by the 
light of the lamp, was very stern. He seemed to undergo some 
mental struggle of extraordinary violence. He breath came quickly. 
At last he turned and faced them. He spoke hoarsely, quickly. 
'I must see Margaret again.' 
'Arthur, you're mad!' cried Susie. 
He went up to Dr Porhoët and, putting his hands on his shoulders, 
looked fixedly into his eyes. 
'You have studied this science. You know all that can be known of it. 
I want you to show her to me.' 

---

The doctor gave an exclamation of alarm. 
'My dear fellow, how can I? I have read many books, but I have 
never practised anything. I have only studied these matters for my 
amusement.' 
'Do you believe it can be done?' 
'I don't understand what you want.' 
'I want you to bring her to me so that I may speak with her, so that I 
may find out the truth.' 
'Do you think I am God that I can raise men from the dead?' 
Arthur's hands pressed him down in the chair from which he sought 
to rise. His fingers were clenched on the old man's shoulders so that 
he could hardly bear the pain. 
'You told us how once Eliphas Levi raised a spirit. Do you believe 
that was true?' 
'I don't know. I have always kept an open mind. There was much to 
be said on both sides.' 
'Well, now you must believe. You must do what he did.' 
'You must be mad, Arthur.' 
'I want you to come to that spot where I saw her last. If her spirit can 
be brought back anywhere, it must be in that place where she sat 
and wept. You know all the ceremonies and all the words that are 
necessary.' 
But Susie came forward and laid her hand on his arm. He looked at 
her with a frown. 
'Arthur, you know in your heart that nothing can come of it. You're 
only increasing your unhappiness. And even if you could bring her 
from the grave for a moment, why can you not let her troubled soul 
rest in peace?' 

---

'If she died a natural death we shall have no power over her, but if 
her death was violent perhaps her spirit is earthbound still. I tell you 
I must be certain. I want to see her once more, and afterwards I shall 
know what to do.' 
'I cannot, I cannot,' said the doctor. 
'Give me the books and I will do it alone.' 
'You know that I have nothing here.' 
'Then you must help me,' said Arthur. 'After all, why should you 
mind? We perform a certain operation, and if nothing happens we 
are no worse off then before. On the other hand, if we succeed…. 
Oh, for God's sake, help me! If you have any care for my happiness 
do this one thing for me.' 
He stepped back and looked at the doctor. The Frenchman's eyes 
were fixed upon the ground. 
'It's madness,' he muttered. 
He was intensely moved by Arthur's appeal. At last he shrugged his 
shoulders. 
'After all, if it is but a foolish mummery it can do no harm.' 
'You will help me?' cried Arthur. 
'If it can give you any peace or any satisfaction, I am willing to do 
what I can. But I warn you to be prepared for a great 
disappointment.' 

---

15 
Arthur wished to set about the invocation then and there, but Dr 
Porhoët said it was impossible. They were all exhausted after the 
long journey, and it was necessary to get certain things together 
without which nothing could be done. In his heart he thought that a 
night's rest would bring Arthur to a more reasonable mind. When 
the light of day shone upon the earth he would be ashamed of the 
desire which ran counter to all his prepossessions. But Arthur 
remembered that on the next day it would be exactly a week since 
Margaret's death, and it seemed to him that then their spells might 
have a greater efficacy. 
When they came down in the morning and greeted one another, it 
was plain that none of them had slept. 
'Are you still of the same purpose as last night?' asked Dr Porhoët 
gravely. 
'I am.' 
The doctor hesitated nervously. 
'It will be necessary, if you wish to follow out the rules of the old 
necromancers, to fast through the whole day.' 
'I am ready to do anything.' 
'It will be no hardship to me,' said Susie, with a little hysterical 
laugh. 'I feel I couldn't eat a thing if I tried.' 
'I think the whole affair is sheer folly,' said Dr Porhoët. 
'You promised me you would try.' 
The day, the long summer day, passed slowly. There was a hard 
brilliancy in the sky that reminded the Frenchman of those Egyptian 
heavens when the earth seemed crushed beneath a bowl of molten 
fire. Arthur was too restless to remain indoors and left the others to 
their own devices. He walked without aim, as fast as he could go; he 
felt no weariness. The burning sun beat down upon him, but he did 

---

not know it. The hours passed with lagging feet. Susie lay on her 
bed and tried to read. Her nerves were so taut that, when there was 
a sound in the courtyard of a pail falling on the cobbles, she cried 
out in terror. The sun rose, and presently her window was flooded 
with quivering rays of gold. It was midday. The day passed, and it 
was afternoon. The evening came, but it brought no freshness. 
Meanwhile Dr Porhoët sat in the little parlour, with his head 
between his hands, trying by a great mental effort to bring back to 
his memory all that he had read. His heart began to beat more 
quickly. Then the night fell, and one by one the stars shone out. 
There was no wind. The air was heavy. Susie came downstairs and 
began to talk with Dr Porhoët. But they spoke in a low tone, as if 
they were afraid that someone would overhear. They were faint 
now with want of food. The hours went one by one, and the striking 
of a clock filled them each time with a mysterious apprehension. 
The lights in the village were put out little by little, and everybody 
slept. Susie had lighted the lamp, and they watched beside it. A cold 
shiver passed through her. 
'I feel as though someone were lying dead in the room,' she said. 
'Why does not Arthur come?' 
They spoke inconsequently, and neither heeded what the other said. 
The window was wide open, but the air was difficult to breathe. 
And now the silence was so unusual that Susie grew strangely 
nervous. She tried to think of the noisy streets in Paris, the constant 
roar of traffic, and the shuffling of the crowds toward evening as the 
work people returned to their homes. She stood up. 
'There's no air tonight. Look at the trees. Not a leaf is moving.' 
'Why does not Arthur come?' repeated the doctor. 
'There's no moon tonight. It will be very dark at Skene.' 
'He's walked all day. He should be here by now.' 
Susie felt an extraordinary oppression, and she panted for breath. At 
last they heard a step on the road outside, and Arthur stood at the 
window. 

---

'Are you ready to come?' he said. 
'We've been waiting for you.' 
They joined him, bringing the few things that Dr Porhoët had said 
were necessary, and they walked along the solitary road that led to 
Skene. On each side the heather stretched into the dark night, and 
there was a blackness about it that was ominous. There was no 
sound save that of their own steps. Dimly, under the stars, they saw 
the desolation with which they were surrounded. The way seemed 
very long. They were utterly exhausted, and they could hardly drag 
one foot after the other. 
'You must let me rest for a minute,' said Susie. 
They did not answer, but stopped, and she sat on a boulder by the 
wayside. They stood motionless in front of her, waiting patiently till 
she was ready. After a little while she forced herself to get up. 
'Now I can go,' she said. 
Still they did not speak, but walked on. They moved like figures in a 
dream, with a stealthy directness, as though they acted under the 
influence of another's will. Suddenly the road stopped, and they 
found themselves at the gates of Skene. 
'Follow me very closely,' said Arthur. 
He turned on one side, and they followed a paling. Susie could feel 
that they walked along a narrow path. She could see hardly two 
steps in front of her. At last he stood still. 
'I came here earlier in the night and made the opening easier to get 
through.' 
He turned back a broken piece of railing and slipped in. Susie 
followed, and Dr Porhoët entered after her. 
'I can see nothing,' said Susie. 
'Give my your hand, and I will lead you.' 

---

They walked with difficulty through the tangled bracken, among 
closely planted trees. They stumbled, and once Dr Porhoët fell. It 
seemed that they went a long way. Susie's heart beat fast with 
anxiety. All her weariness was forgotten. 
Then Arthur stopped them, and he pointed in front of him. Through 
an opening in the trees, they saw the house. All the windows were 
dark except those just under the roof, and from them came bright 
lights. 
'Those are the attics which he uses as a laboratory. You see, he is 
working now. There is no one else in the house.' 
Susie was curiously fascinated by the flaming lights. There was an 
awful mystery in those unknown labours which absorbed Oliver 
Haddo night after night till the sun rose. What horrible things were 
done there, hidden from the eyes of men? By himself in that vast 
house the madman performed ghastly experiments; and who could 
tell what dark secrets he trafficked in? 
'There is no danger that he will come out,' said Arthur. 'He remains 
there till the break of day.' 
He took her hand again and led her on. Back they went among the 
trees, and presently they were on a pathway. They walked along 
with greater safety. 
'Are you all right, Porhoët?' asked Arthur. 
'Yes.' 
But the trees grew thicker and the night more sombre. Now the stars 
were shut out, and they could hardly see in front of them. 
'Here we are,' said Arthur. 
They stopped, and found that there was in front of them a green 
space formed by four cross-ways. In the middle a stone bench 
gleamed vaguely against the darkness. 
'This is where Margaret sat when last I saw her.' 

---

'I can see to do nothing here,' said the doctor. 
They had brought two flat bowls of brass to serve as censers, and 
these Arthur gave to Dr Porhoët. He stood by Susie's side while the 
doctor busied himself with his preparations. They saw him move to 
and fro. They saw him bend to the ground. Presently there was a 
crackling of wood, and from the brazen bowls red flames shot up. 
They did not know what he burnt, but there were heavy clouds of 
smoke, and a strong, aromatic odour filled the air. Now and again 
the doctor was sharply silhouetted against the light. His slight, 
bowed figure was singularly mysterious. When Susie caught sight 
of his face, she saw that it was touched with a strong emotion. The 
work he was at affected him so that his doubts, his fears, had 
vanished. He looked like some old alchemist busied with unnatural 
things. Susie's heart began to beat painfully. She was growing 
desperately frightened and stretched out her hand so that she might 
touch Arthur. Silently he put his arm through hers. And now the 
doctor was tracing strange signs upon the ground. The flames died 
down and only a glow remained, but he seemed to have no 
difficulty in seeing what he was about. Susie could not discern what 
figures he drew. Then he put more twigs upon the braziers, and the 
flames sprang up once more, cutting the darkness sharply as with a 
sword. 
'Now come,' he said. 
But, inexplicably, a sudden terror seized Susie. She felt that the hairs 
of her head stood up, and a cold sweat broke out on her body. Her 
limbs had grown on an instant inconceivably heavy so that she 
could not move. A panic such as she had never known came upon 
her, and, except that her legs would not carry her, she would have 
fled blindly. She began to tremble. She tried to speak, but her tongue 
clave to her throat. 
'I can't, I'm afraid,' she muttered hoarsely. 
'You must. Without you we can do nothing,' said Arthur. 
She could not reason with herself. She had forgotten everything 
except that she was frightened to death. Her heart was beating so 

---

quickly that she almost fainted. And now Arthur held her, so firmly 
that she winced. 
'Let me go,' she whispered. 'I won't help you. I'm afraid.' 
'You must,' he said. 'You must.' 
'No.' 
'I tell you, you must come.' 
'Why?' 
Her deadly fear expressed itself in a passion of sudden anger. 
'Because you love me, and it's the only way to give me peace.' 
She uttered a low wail of pain, and her terror gave way to shame. 
She blushed to the roots of her hair because he too knew her secret. 
And then she was seized again with anger because he had the 
cruelty to taunt her with it. She had recovered her courage now, and 
she stepped forward. Dr. Porhoët told her where to stand. Arthur 
took his place in front of her. 
'You must not move till I give you leave. If you go outside the figure 
I have drawn, I cannot protect you.' 
For a moment Dr Porhoët stood in perfect silence. Then he began to 
recite strange words in Latin. Susie heard him but vaguely. She did 
not know the sense, and his voice was so low that she could not 
have distinguished the words. But his intonation had lost that gentle 
irony which was habitual to him, and he spoke with a trembling 
gravity that was extraordinarily impressive. Arthur stood immobile 
as a rock. The flames died away, and they saw one another only by 
the glow of the ashes, dimly, like persons in a vision of death. There 
was silence. Then the necromancer spoke again, and now his voice 
was louder. He seemed to utter weird invocations, but they were in 
a tongue that the others knew not. And while he spoke the light 
from the burning cinders on a sudden went out. 
It did not die, but was sharply extinguished, as though by invisible 
hands. And now the darkness was more sombre than that of the 

---

blackest night. The trees that surrounded them were hidden from 
their eyes, and the whiteness of the stone bench was seen no longer. 
They stood but a little way one from the other, but each might have 
stood alone. Susie strained her eyes, but she could see nothing. She 
looked up quickly; the stars were gone out, and she could see no 
further over her head than round about. The darkness was 
terrifying. And from it, Dr Porhoët's voice had a ghastly effect. It 
seemed to come, wonderfully changed, from the void of bottomless 
chaos. Susie clenched her hands so that she might not faint. 
All at once she started, for the old man's voice was cut by a sudden 
gust of wind. A moment before, the utter silence had been almost 
intolerable, and now a storm seemed to have fallen upon them. The 
trees all around them rocked in the wind; they heard the branches 
creak; and they heard the hissing of the leaves. They were in the 
midst of a hurricane. And they felt the earth sway as it resisted the 
straining roots of great trees, which seemed to be dragged up by the 
force of the furious gale. Whistling and roaring, the wind stormed 
all about them, and the doctor, raising his voice, tried in vain to 
command it. But the strangest thing of all was that, where they 
stood, there was no sign of the raging blast. The air immediately 
about them was as still as it had been before, and not a hair on 
Susie's head was moved. And it was terrible to hear the tumult, and 
yet to be in a calm that was almost unnatural. 
On a sudden, Dr Porhoët raised his voice, and with a sternness they 
had never heard in it before, cried out in that unknown language. 
Then he called upon Margaret. He called her name three times. In 
the uproar Susie could scarcely hear. Terror had seized her again, 
but in her confusion she remembered his command, and she dared 
not move. 
'Margaret, Margaret, Margaret.' 
Without a pause between, as quickly as a stone falls to the ground, 
the din which was all about them ceased. There was no gradual 
diminution. But at one moment there was a roaring hurricane and at 
the next a silence so complete that it might have been the silence of 
death. 

---

And then, seeming to come out of nothingness, extraordinarily, they 
heard with a curious distinctness the sound of a woman weeping. 
Susie's heart stood still. They heard the sound of a woman weeping, 
and they recognized the voice of Margaret. A groan of anguish burst 
from Arthur's lips, and he was on the point of starting forward. But 
quickly Dr Porhoët put out his hand to prevent him. The sound was 
heartrending, the sobbing of a woman who had lost all hope, the 
sobbing of a woman terrified. If Susie had been able to stir, she 
would have put her hands to her ears to shut out the ghastly agony 
of it. 
And in a moment, notwithstanding the heavy darkness of the 
starless night, Arthur saw her. She was seated on the stone bench as 
when last he had spoken with her. In her anguish she sought not to 
hide her face. She looked at the ground, and the tears fell down her 
cheeks. Her bosom heaved with the pain of her weeping. 
Then Arthur knew that all his suspicions were justified. 

---

16 
Arthur would not leave the little village of Venning. Neither Susie 
nor the doctor could get him to make any decision. None of them 
spoke of the night which they had spent in the woods of Skene; but 
it coloured all their thoughts, and they were not free for a single 
moment from the ghastly memory of it. They seemed still to hear 
the sound of that passionate weeping. Arthur was moody. When he 
was with them, he spoke little; he opposed a stubborn resistance to 
their efforts at diverting his mind. He spent long hours by himself, 
in the country, and they had no idea what he did. Susie was terribly 
anxious. He had lost his balance so completely that she was 
prepared for any rashness. She divined that his hatred of Haddo 
was no longer within the bounds of reason. The desire for 
vengeance filled him entirely, so that he was capable of any 
violence. 
Several days went by. 
At last, in concert with Dr Porhoët, she determined to make one 
more attempt. It was late at night, and they sat with open windows 
in the sitting-room of the inn. There was a singular oppressiveness 
in the air which suggested that a thunderstorm was at hand. Susie 
prayed for it; for she ascribed to the peculiar heat of the last few 
days much of Arthur's sullen irritability. 
'Arthur, you 
must
tell us what you are going to do,' she said. 'It is 
useless to stay here. We are all so ill and nervous that we cannot 
consider anything rationally. We want you to come away with us 
tomorrow.' 
'You can go if you choose,' he said. 'I shall remain till that man is 
dead.' 
'It is madness to talk like that. You can do nothing. You are only 
making yourself worse by staying here.' 
'I have quite made up my mind.' 
'The law can offer you no help, and what else can you do?' 

---

She asked the question, meaning if possible to get from him some 
hint of his intentions; but the grimness of his answer, though it only 
confirmed her vague suspicions, startled her. 
'If I can do nothing else, I shall shoot him like a dog.' 
She could think of nothing to say, and for a while they remained in 
silence. Then he got up. 
'I think I should prefer it if you went,' he said. 'You can only hamper 
me.' 
'I shall stay here as long as you do.' 
'Why?' 
'Because if you do anything, I shall be compromised. I may be 
arrested. I think the fear of that may restrain you.' 
He looked at her steadily. She met his eyes with a calmness which 
showed that she meant exactly what she said, and he turned 
uneasily away. A silence even greater than before fell upon them. 
They did not move. It was so still in the room that it might have 
been empty. The breathlessness of the air increased, so that it was 
horribly oppressive. Suddenly there was a loud rattle of thunder, 
and a flash of lightning tore across the heavy clouds. Susie thanked 
Heaven for the storm which would give presently a welcome 
freshness. She felt excessively ill at ease, and it was a relief to ascribe 
her sensation to a state of the atmosphere. Again the thunder rolled. 
It was so loud that it seemed to be immediately above their heads. 
And the wind rose suddenly and swept with a long moan through 
the trees that surrounded the house. It was a sound so human that it 
might have come from the souls of dead men suffering hopeless 
torments of regret. 
The lamp went out, so suddenly that Susie was vaguely frightened. 
It gave one flicker, and they were in total darkness. It seemed as 
though someone had leaned over the chimney and blown it out. The 
night was very black, and they could not see the window which 
opened on to the country. The darkness was so peculiar that for a 
moment no one stirred. 

---

Then Susie heard Dr Porhoët slip his hand across the table to find 
matches, but it seemed that they were not there. Again a loud peal 
of thunder startled them, but the rain would not fall. They panted 
for fresh air. On a sudden Susie's heart gave a bound, and she 
sprang up. 
'There's someone in the room.' 
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she heard Arthur 
fling himself upon the intruder. She knew at once, with the certainty 
of an intuition, that it was Haddo. But how had he come in? What 
did he want? She tried to cry out, but no sound came from her 
throat. Dr Porhoët seemed bound to his chair. He did not move. He 
made no sound. She knew that an awful struggle was proceeding. It 
was a struggle to the death between two men who hated one 
another, but the most terrible part of it was that nothing was heard. 
They were perfectly noiseless. She tried to do something, but she 
could not stir. And Arthur's heart exulted, for his enemy was in his 
grasp, under his hands, and he would not let him go while life was 
in him. He clenched his teeth and tightened his straining muscles. 
Susie heard his laboured breathing, but she only heard the breathing 
of one man. She wondered in abject terror what that could mean. 
They struggled silently, hand to hand, and Arthur knew that his 
strength was greater. He had made up his mind what to do and 
directed all his energy to a definite end. His enemy was 
extraordinarily powerful, but Arthur appeared to create some 
strength from the sheer force of his will. It seemed for hours that 
they struggled. He could not bear him down. 
Suddenly, he knew that the other was frightened and sought to 
escape from him. Arthur tightened his grasp; for nothing in the 
world now would he ever loosen his hold. He took a deep, quick 
breath, and then put out all his strength in a tremendous effort. 
They swayed from side to side. Arthur felt as if his muscles were 
being torn from the bones, he could not continue for more than a 
moment longer; but the agony that flashed across his mind at the 
thought of failure braced him to a sudden angry jerk. All at once 
Haddo collapsed, and they fell heavily to the ground. Arthur was 
breathing more quickly now. He thought that if he could keep on for 
one instant longer, he would be safe. He threw all his weight on the 

---

form that rolled beneath him, and bore down furiously on the man's 
arm. He twisted it sharply, with all his might, and felt it give way. 
He gave a low cry of triumph; the arm was broken. And now his 
enemy was seized with panic; he struggled madly, he wanted only 
to get away from those long hands that were killing him. They 
seemed to be of iron. Arthur seized the huge bullock throat and dug 
his fingers into it, and they sunk into the heavy rolls of fat; and he 
flung the whole weight of his body into them. He exulted, for he 
knew that his enemy was in his power at last; he was strangling 
him, strangling the life out of him. He wanted light so that he might 
see the horror of that vast face, and the deadly fear, and the staring 
eyes. And still he pressed with those iron hands. And now the 
movements were strangely convulsive. His victim writhed in the 
agony of death. His struggles were desperate, but the avenging 
hands held him as in a vice. And then the movements grew 
spasmodic, and then they grew weaker. Still the hands pressed 
upon the gigantic throat, and Arthur forgot everything. He was mad 
with rage and fury and hate and sorrow. He thought of Margaret's 
anguish and of her fiendish torture, and he wished the man had ten 
lives so that he might take them one by one. And at last all was still, 
and that vast mass of flesh was motionless, and he knew that his 
enemy was dead. He loosened his grasp and slipped one hand over 
the heart. It would never beat again. The man was stone dead. 
Arthur got up and straightened himself. The darkness was intense 
still, and he could see nothing. Susie heard him, and at length she 
was able to speak. 
'Arthur what have you done?' 
'I've killed him,' he said hoarsely. 
'O God, what shall we do?' 
Arthur began to laugh aloud, hysterically, and in the darkness his 
hilarity was terrifying. 
'For God's sake let us have some light.' 
'I've found the matches,' said Dr Porhoët. 

---

He seemed to awake suddenly from his long stupor. He struck one, 
and it would not light. He struck another, and Susie took off the 
globe and the chimney as he kindled the wick. Then he held up the 
lamp, and they saw Arthur looking at them. His face was ghastly. 
The sweat ran off his forehead in great beads, and his eyes were 
bloodshot. He trembled in every limb. Then Dr Porhoët advanced 
with the lamp and held it forward. They looked down on the floor 
for the man who lay there dead. Susie gave a sudden cry of horror. 
There was no one there. 
Arthur stepped back in terrified surprise. There was no one in the 
room, living or dead, but the three friends. The ground sank under 
Susie's feet, she felt horribly ill, and she fainted. When she awoke, 
seeming difficultly to emerge from an eternal night, Arthur was 
holding down her head. 
'Bend down,' he said. 'Bend down.' 
All that had happened came back to her, and she burst into tears. 
Her self-control deserted her, and, clinging to him for protection, 
she sobbed as though her heart would break. She was shaking from 
head to foot. The strangeness of this last horror had overcome her, 
and she could have shrieked with fright. 
'It's all right,' he said. 'You need not be afraid.' 
'Oh, what does it mean?' 
'You must pluck up courage. We're going now to Skene.' 
She sprang to her feet, as though to get away from him; her heart 
beat wildly. 
'No, I can't; I'm frightened.' 
'We must see what it means. We have no time to lose, or the 
morning will be upon us before we get back.' 
Then she sought to prevent him. 

---

'Oh, for God's sake, don't go, Arthur. Something awful may await 
you there. Don't risk your life.' 
'There is no danger. I tell you the man is dead.' 
'If anything happened to you …' 
She stopped, trying to restrain her sobs; she dared not go on. But he 
seemed to know what was in her mind. 
'I will take no risks, because of you. I know that whether I live or die 
is not a—matter of indifference to you.' 
She looked up and saw that his eyes were fixed upon her gravely. 
She reddened. A curious feeling came into her heart. 
'I will go with you wherever you choose,' she said humbly. 
'Come, then.' 
They stepped out into the night. And now, without rain, the storm 
had passed away, and the stars were shining. They walked quickly. 
Arthur went in front of them. Dr Porhoët and Susie followed him, 
side by side, and they had to hasten their steps in order not to be left 
behind. It seemed to them that the horror of the night was passed, 
and there was a fragrancy in the air which was wonderfully 
refreshing. The sky was beautiful. And at last they came to Skene. 
Arthur led them again to the opening in the palisade, and he took 
Susie's hand. Presently they stood in the place from which a few 
days before they had seen the house. As then, it stood in massive 
blackness against the night and, as then, the attic windows shone 
out with brilliant lights. Susie started, for she had expected that the 
whole place would be in darkness. 
'There is no danger, I promise you,' said Arthur gently. 'We are 
going to find out the meaning of all this mystery.' 
He began to walk towards the house. 
'Have you a weapon of some sort?' asked the doctor. 
Arthur handed him a revolver. 

---

'Take this. It will reassure you, but you will have no need of it. I 
bought it the other day when—I had other plans.' 
Susie gave a little shudder. They reached the drive and walked to 
the great portico which adorned the facade of the house. Arthur 
tried the handle, but it would not open. 
'Will you wait here?' he said. 'I can get through one of the windows, 
and 
I will let you in.' 
He left them. They stood quietly there, with anxious hearts; they 
could not guess what they would see. They were afraid that 
something would happen to Arthur, and Susie regretted that she 
had not insisted on going with him. Suddenly she remembered that 
awful moment when the light of the lamp had been thrown where 
all expected to see a body, and there was nothing. 
'What do you think it meant?' she cried suddenly. 'What is the 
explanation?' 
'Perhaps we shall see now,' answered the doctor. 
Arthur still lingered, and she could not imagine what had become of 
him. All sorts of horrible fancies passed through her mind, and she 
dreaded she knew not what. At last they heard a footstep inside the 
house, and the door was opened. 
'I was convinced that nobody slept here, but I was obliged to make 
sure. 
I had some difficulty in getting in.' 
Susie hesitated to enter. She did not know what horrors awaited her, 
and the darkness was terrifying. 
'I cannot see,' she said. 
'I've brought a torch,' said Arthur. 
He pressed a button, and a narrow ray of bright light was cast upon 
the floor. Dr Porhoët and Susie went in. Arthur carefully closed the 
door, and flashed the light of his torch all round them. They stood in 

---

a large hall, the floor of which was scattered with the skins of lions 
that Haddo on his celebrated expedition had killed in Africa. There 
were perhaps a dozen, and their number gave a wild, barbaric note. 
A great oak staircase led to the upper floors. 
'We must go through all the rooms,' said Arthur. 
He did not expect to find Haddo till they came to the lighted attics, 
but it seemed needful nevertheless to pass right through the house 
on their way. A flash of his torch had shown him that the walls of 
the hall were decorated with all manner of armour, ancient swords 
of Eastern handiwork, barbaric weapons from central Africa, savage 
implements of medieval warfare; and an idea came to him. He took 
down a huge battle-axe and swung it in his hand. 
'Now come.' 
Silently, holding their breath as though they feared to wake the 
dead, they went into the first room. They saw it difficultly with their 
scant light, since the thin shaft of brilliancy, emphasising acutely the 
surrounding darkness, revealed it only piece by piece. It was a large 
room, evidently unused, for the furniture was covered with holland, 
and there was a mustiness about it which suggested that the 
windows were seldom opened. As in many old houses, the rooms 
led not from a passage but into one another, and they walked 
through many till they came back into the hall. They had all a 
desolate, uninhabited air. Their sombreness was increased by the 
oak with which they were panelled. There was panelling in the hall 
too, and on the stairs that led broadly to the top of the house. As 
they ascended, Arthur stopped for one moment and passed his 
hand over the polished wood. 
'It would burn like tinder,' he said. 
They went through the rooms on the first floor, and they were as 
empty and as cheerless. Presently they came to that which had been 
Margaret's. In a bowl were dead flowers. Her brushes were still on 
the toilet table. But it was a gloomy chamber, with its dark oak, and, 
so comfortless that Susie shuddered. Arthur stood for a time and 
looked at it, but he said nothing. They found themselves again on 

---

the stairs and they went to the second storey. But here they seemed 
to be at the top of the house. 
'How does one get up to the attics?' said Arthur, looking about him 
with surprise. 
He paused for a while to think. Then he nodded his head. 
'There must be some steps leading out of one of the rooms.' 
They went on. And now the ceilings were much lower, with heavy 
beams, and there was no furniture at all. The emptiness seemed to 
make everything more terrifying. They felt that they were on the 
threshold of a great mystery, and Susie's heart began to beat fast. 
Arthur conducted his examination with the greatest method; he 
walked round each room carefully, looking for a door that might 
lead to a staircase; but there was no sign of one. 
'What will you do if you can't find the way up?' asked Susie. 
'I shall find the way up,' he answered. 
They came to the staircase once more and had discovered nothing. 
They looked at one another helplessly. 
'It's quite clear there is a way,' said Arthur, with impatience. 'There 
must be something in the nature of a hidden door somewhere or 
other.' 
He leaned against the balustrade and meditated. The light of his 
lantern threw a narrow ray upon the opposite wall. 
'I feel certain it must be in one of the rooms at the end of the house. 
That seems the most natural place to put a means of ascent to the 
attics.' 
They went back, and again he examined the panelling of a small 
room that had outside walls on three sides of it. It was the only 
room that did not lead into another. 
'It must be here,' he said. 

---

Presently he gave a little laugh, for he saw that a small door was 
concealed by the woodwork. He pressed it where he thought there 
might be a spring, and it flew open. Their torch showed them a 
narrow wooden staircase. They walked up and found themselves in 
front of a door. Arthur tried it, but it was locked. He smiled grimly. 
'Will you get back a little,' he said. 
He lifted his axe and swung it down upon the latch. The handle was 
shattered, but the lock did not yield. He shook his head. As he 
paused for a moment, an there was a complete silence, Susie 
distinctly heard a slight noise. She put her hand on Arthur's arm to 
call his attention to it, and with strained ears they listened. There 
was something alive on the other side of the door. They heard its 
curious sound: it was not that of a human voice, it was not the 
crying of an animal, it was extraordinary. 
It was the sort of gibber, hoarse and rapid, and it filled them with an 
icy terror because it was so weird and so unnatural. 
'Come away, Arthur,' said Susie. 'Come away.' 
'There's some living thing in there,' he answered. 
He did not know why the sound horrified him. The sweat broke out 
on his forehead. 
'Something awful will happen to us,' whispered Susie, shaking with 
uncontrollable fear. 
'The only thing is to break the door down.' 
The horrid gibbering was drowned by the noise he made. Quickly, 
without pausing, he began to hack at the oak door with all his 
might. In rapid succession his heavy blows rained down, and the 
sound echoed through the empty house. There was a crash, and the 
door swung back. They had been so long in almost total darkness 
that they were blinded for an instant by the dazzling light. And then 
instinctively they started back, for, as the door opened, a wave of 
heat came out upon them so that they could hardly breathe. The 
place was like an oven. 

---

They entered. It was lit by enormous lamps, the light of which was 
increased by reflectors, and warmed by a great furnace. They could 
not understand why so intense a heat was necessary. The narrow 
windows were closed. Dr Porhoët caught sight of a thermometer 
and was astounded at the temperature it indicated. The room was 
used evidently as a laboratory. On broad tables were test-tubes, 
basins and baths of white porcelain, measuring-glasses, and utensils 
of all sorts; but the surprising thing was the great scale upon which 
everything was. Neither Arthur nor Dr Porhoët had ever seen such 
gigantic measures nor such large test-tubes. There were rows of 
bottles, like those in the dispensary of a hospital, each containing 
great quantities of a different chemical. The three friends stood in 
silence. The emptiness of the room contrasted so oddly with its 
appearance of being in immediate use that it was uncanny. Susie felt 
that he who worked there was in the midst of his labours, and might 
return at any moment; he could have only gone for an instant into 
another chamber in order to see the progress of some experiment. It 
was quite silent. Whatever had made those vague, unearthly noises 
was hushed by their approach. 
The door was closed between this room and the next. Arthur 
opened it, and they found themselves in a long, low attic, ceiled 
with great rafters, as brilliantly lit and as hot as the first. Here too 
were broad tables laden with retorts, instruments for heating, huge 
test-tubes, and all manner of vessels. The furnace that warmed it 
gave a steady heat. Arthur's gaze travelled slowly from table to 
table, and he wondered what Haddo's experiments had really been. 
The air was heavy with an extraordinary odour: it was not musty, 
like that of the closed rooms through which they had passed, but 
singularly pungent, disagreeable and sickly. He asked himself what 
it could spring from. Then his eyes fell upon a huge receptacle that 
stood on the table nearest to the furnace. It was covered with a 
white cloth. He took it off. The vessel was about four feet high, 
round, and shaped somewhat like a washing tub, but it was made of 
glass more than an inch thick. In it a spherical mass, a little larger 
than a football, of a peculiar, livid colour. The surface was smooth, 
but rather coarsely grained, and over it ran a dense system of blood-
vessels. It reminded the two medical men of those huge tumours 
which are preserved in spirit in hospital museums. Susie looked at it 
with an incomprehensible disgust. Suddenly she gave a cry. 

---

'Good God, it's moving!' 
Arthur put his hand on her arm quickly to quieten her and bent 
down with irresistible curiosity. They saw that it was a mass of flesh 
unlike that of any human being; and it pulsated regularly. The 
movement was quite distinct, up and down, like the delicate 
heaving of a woman's breast when she is asleep. Arthur touched the 
thing with one finger and it shrank slightly. 
'Its quite warm,' he said. 
He turned it over, and it remained in the position in which he had 
placed it, as if there were neither top nor bottom to it. But they could 
see now, irregularly placed on one side, a few short hairs. They were 
just like human hairs. 
'Is it alive?' whispered Susie, struck with horror and amazement. 
'Yes!' 
Arthur seemed fascinated. He could not take his eyes off the 
loathsome thing. He watched it slowly heave with even motion. 
'What can it mean?' he asked. 
He looked at Dr Porhoët with pale startled face. A thought was 
coming to him, but a thought so unnatural, extravagant, and terrible 
that he pushed it from him with a movement of both hands, as 
though it were a material thing. Then all three turned around 
abruptly with a start, for they heard again the wild gibbering which 
had first shocked their ears. In the wonder of this revolting object 
they had forgotten all the rest. The sound seemed extraordinarily 
near, and Susie drew back instinctively, for it appeared to come 
from her very side. 
'There's nothing here,' said Arthur. 'It must be in the next room.' 
'Oh, Arthur, let us go,' cried Susie. 'I'm afraid to see what may be in 
store for us. It is nothing to us; and what we see may poison our 
sleep for ever.' 

---

She looked appealingly at Dr Porhoët. He was white and anxious. 
The heat of that place had made the sweat break out on his 
forehead. 
'I have seen enough. I want to see no more,' he said. 
'Then you may go, both of you,' answered Arthur. 'I do not wish to 
force you to see anything. But I shall go on. Whatever it is, I wish to 
find out.' 
'But Haddo? Supposing he is there, waiting? Perhaps you are only 
walking into a trap that he has set for you.' 
'I am convinced that Haddo is dead.' 
Again that unintelligible jargon, unhuman and shrill, fell upon their 
ears, and Arthur stepped forward. Susie did not hesitate. She was 
prepared to follow him anywhere. He opened the door, and there 
was a sudden quiet. Whatever made those sounds was there. It was 
a larger room than any on the others and much higher, for it ran 
along the whole front of the house. The powerful lamps showed 
every corner of it at once, but, above, the beams of the open ceiling 
were dark with shadow. And here the nauseous odour, which had 
struck them before, was so overpowering that for a while they could 
not go in. It was indescribably foul. Even Arthur thought it would 
make him sick, and he looked at the windows to see if it was 
possible to open them; but it seemed they were hermetically closed. 
The extreme warmth made the air more overpowering. There were 
four furnaces here, and they were all alight. In order to give out 
more heat and to burn slowly, the fronts of them were open, and 
one could see that they were filled with glowing coke. 
The room was furnished no differently from the others, but to the 
various instruments for chemical operations on a large scale were 
added all manner of electrical appliances. Several books were lying 
about, and one had been left open face downwards on the edge of a 
table. But what immediately attracted their attention was a row of 
those large glass vessels like that which they had seen in the 
adjoining room. Each was covered with a white cloth. They 
hesitated a moment, for they knew that here they were face to face 
with the great enigma. At last Arthur pulled away the cloth from 

---

one. None of them spoke. They stared with astonished eyes. For 
here, too, was a strange mass of flesh, almost as large as a new-born 
child, but there was in it the beginnings of something ghastly 
human. It was shaped vaguely like an infant, but the legs were 
joined together so that it looked like a mummy rolled up in its 
coverings. There were neither feet nor knees. The trunk was 
formless, but there was a curious thickening on each side; it was as 
if a modeller had meant to make a figure with the arms loosely bent, 
but had left the work unfinished so that they were still one with the 
body. There was something that resembled a human head, covered 
with long golden hair, but it was horrible; it was an uncouth mass, 
without eyes or nose or mouth. The colour was a kind of sickly pink, 
and it was almost transparent. There was a very slight movement in 
it, rhythmical and slow. It was living too. 
Then quickly Arthur removed the covering from all the other jars 
but one; and in a flash of the eyes they saw abominations so awful 
that Susie had to clench her fists in order not to scream. There was 
one monstrous thing in which the limbs approached nearly to the 
human. It was extraordinarily heaped up, with fat tiny arms, little 
bloated legs, and an absurd squat body, so that it looked like a 
Chinese mandarin in porcelain. In another the trunk was almost like 
that of a human child, except that it was patched strangely with red 
and grey. But the terror of it was that at the neck it branched 
hideously, and there were two distinct heads, monstrously large, 
but duly provided with all their features. The features were a 
caricature of humanity so shameful that one could hardly bear to 
look. And as the light fell on it, the eyes of each head opened slowly. 
They had no pigment in them, but were pink, like the eyes of white 
rabbits; and they stared for a moment with an odd, unseeing glance. 
Then they were shut again, and what was curiously terrifying was 
that the movements were not quite simultaneous; the eyelids of one 
head fell slowly just before those of the other. And in another place 
was a ghastly monster in which it seemed that two bodies had been 
dreadfully entangled with one another. It was a creature of 
nightmare, with four arms and four legs, and this one actually 
moved. With a peculiar motion it crawled along the bottom of the 
great receptacle in which it was kept, towards the three persons who 
looked at it. It seemed to wonder what they did. Susie started back 

---

with fright, as it raised itself on its four legs and tried to reach up to 
them. 
Susie turned away and hid her face. She could not look at those 
ghastly counterfeits of humanity. She was terrified and ashamed. 
'Do you understand what this means?' said Dr Porhoët to Arthur, in 
an awed voice. 'It means that he has discovered the secret of life.' 
'Was it for these vile monstrosities that Margaret was sacrificed in 
all her loveliness?' 
The two men looked at one another with sad, wondering eyes. 
'Don't you remember that he talked of the manufacture of human 
beings? It's these misshapen things that he's succeeding in 
producing,' said the doctor. 
'There is one more that we haven't seen,' said Arthur. 
He pointed to the covering which still hid the largest of the vases. 
He had a feeling that it contained the most fearful of all these 
monsters; and it was not without an effort that he drew the cloth 
away. But no sooner had he done this than something sprang up, so 
that instinctively he started back, and it began to gibber in piercing 
tones. These were the unearthly sounds that they had heard. It was 
not a voice, it was a kind of raucous crying, hoarse yet shrill, uneven 
like the barking of a dog, and appalling. The sounds came forth in 
rapid succession, angrily, as though the being that uttered them 
sought to express itself in furious words. It was mad with passion 
and beat against the glass walls of its prison with clenched fists. For 
the hands were human hands, and the body, though much larger, 
was of the shape of a new-born child. The creature must have stood 
about four feet high. The head was horribly misshapen. The skull 
was enormous, smooth and distended like that of a hydrocephalic, 
and the forehead protruded over the face hideously. The features 
were almost unformed, preternaturally small under the great, 
overhanging brow; and they had an expression of fiendish 
malignity. 

---

The tiny, misshapen countenance writhed with convulsive fury, and 
from the mouth poured out a foaming spume. It raised its voice 
higher and higher, shrieking senseless gibberish in its rage. Then it 
began to hurl its whole body madly against the glass walls and to 
beat its head. It appeared to have a sudden incomprehensible hatred 
for the three strangers. It was trying to fly at them. The toothless 
gums moved spasmodically, and it threw its face into horrible 
grimaces. That nameless, loathsome abortion was the nearest that 
Oliver Haddo had come to the human form. 
'Come away,' said Arthur. 'We must not look at this.' 
He quickly flung the covering over the jar. 
'Yes, for God's sake let us go,' said Susie. 
'We haven't done yet,' answered Arthur. 'We haven't found the 
author of all this.' 
He looked at the room in which they were, but there was no door 
except that by which they had entered. Then he uttered a startled 
cry, and stepping forward fell on his knee. 
On the other side of the long tables heaped up with instruments, 
hidden so that at first they had not seen him, Oliver Haddo lay on 
the floor, dead. His blue eyes were staring wide, and they seemed 
larger than they had ever been. They kept still the expression of 
terror which they had worn in the moment of his agony, and his 
heavy face was distorted with deadly fear. It was purple and dark, 
and the eyes were injected with blood. 
'He died of suffocation,' whispered Dr Porhoët. 
Arthur pointed to the neck. There could be seen on it distinctly the 
marks of the avenging fingers that had strangled the life out of him. 
It was impossible to hesitate. 
'I told you that I had killed him,' said Arthur. 
Then he remembered something more. He took hold of the right 
arm. He was convinced that it had been broken during that 
desperate struggle in the darkness. He felt it carefully and listened. 

---

He heard plainly the two parts of the bone rub against one another. 
The dead man's arm was broken just in the place where he had 
broken it. Arthur stood up. He took one last look at his enemy. That 
vast mass of flesh lay heaped up on the floor in horrible disorder. 
'Now that you have seen, will you come away?' said Susie, 
interrupting him. 
The words seemed to bring him suddenly to himself. 
'Yes, we must go quickly.' 
They turned away and with hurried steps walked through those 
bright attics till they came to the stairs. 
'Now go down and wait for me at the door,' said Arthur. 'I will 
follow you immediately.' 
'What are you going to do?' asked Susie. 
'Never mind. Do as I tell you. I have not finished here yet.' 
They went down the great oak staircase and waited in the hall. They 
wondered what Arthur was about. Presently he came running 
down. 
'Be quick!' he cried. 'We have no time to lose.' 
'What have you done, Arthur?' 
There's no time to tell you now.' 
He hurried them out and slammed the door behind him. He took 
Susie's hand. 
'Now we must run. Come.' 
She did not know what his haste signified, but her heart beat 
furiously. He dragged her along. Dr Porhoët hurried on behind 
them. Arthur plunged into the wood. He would not leave them time 
to breathe. 
'You must be quick,' he said. 

---

At last they came to the opening in the fence, and he helped them to 
get through. Then he carefully replaced the wooden paling and, 
taking Susie's arm began to walk rapidly towards their inn. 
'I'm frightfully tired,' she said. 'I simply can't go so fast.' 
'You must. Presently you can rest as long as you like.' 
They walked very quickly for a while. Now and then Arthur looked 
back. 
The night was still quite dark, and the stars shone out in their 
myriads. 
At last he slackened their pace. 
'Now you can go more slowly,' he said. 
Susie saw the smiling glance that he gave her. His eyes were full of 
tenderness. He put his arm affectionately round her shoulders to 
support her. 
'I'm afraid you're quite exhausted, poor thing,' he said. 'I'm sorry to 
have had to hustle you so much.' 
'It doesn't matter at all.' 
She leaned against him comfortably. With that protecting arm about 
her, she felt capable of any fatigue. Dr Porhoët stopped. 
'You must really let me roll myself a cigarette,' he said. 
'You may do whatever you like,' answered Arthur. 
There was a different ring in his voice now, and it was soft with a 
good-humour that they had not heard in it for many months. He 
appeared singularly relieved. Susie was ready to forget the terrible 
past and give herself over to the happiness that seemed at last in 
store for her. They began to saunter slowly on. And now they could 
take pleasure in the exquisite night. The air was very suave, odorous 
with the heather that was all about them, and there was an 
enchanting peace in that scene which wonderfully soothed their 
weariness. It was dark still, but they knew the dawn was at hand, 
and Susie rejoiced in the approaching day. In the east the azure of 

---

the night began to thin away into pale amethyst, and the trees 
seemed gradually to stand out from the darkness in a ghostly 
beauty. Suddenly birds began to sing all around them in a splendid 
chorus. From their feet a lark sprang up with a rustle of wings and, 
mounting proudly upon the air, chanted blithe canticles to greet the 
morning. They stood upon a little hill. 
'Let us wait here and see the sun rise,' said Susie. 
'As you will.' 
They stood all three of them, and Susie took in deep, joyful breaths 
of the sweet air of dawn. The whole land, spread at her feet, was 
clothed in the purple dimness that heralds day, and she exulted in 
its beauty. But she noticed that Arthur, unlike herself and Dr 
Porhoët, did not look toward the east. His eyes were fixed steadily 
upon the place from which they had come. What did he look for in 
the darkness of the west? She turned round, and a cry broke from 
her lips, for the shadows there were lurid with a deep red glow. 
'It looks like a fire,' she said. 
'It is. Skene is burning like tinder.' 
And as he spoke it seemed that the roof fell in, for suddenly vast 
flames sprang up, rising high into the still night air; and they saw 
that the house they had just left was blazing furiously. It was a 
magnificent sight from the distant hill on which they stood to watch 
the fire as it soared and sank, as it shot scarlet tongues along like 
strange Titanic monsters, as it raged from room to room. Skene was 
burning. It was beyond the reach of human help. In a little while 
there would be no trace of all those crimes and all those horrors. 
Now it was one mass of flame. It looked like some primeval furnace, 
where the gods might work unheard-of miracles. 
'Arthur, what have you done?' asked Susie, in a tone that was hardly 
audible. 
He did not answer directly. He put his arm about her shoulder 
again, so that she was obliged to turn round. 
'Look, the sun is rising.' 

---

In the east, a long ray of light climbed up the sky, and the sun, 
yellow and round, appeared upon the face of the earth.