Roberta and I were to be married one of these days. She was mine to command me.
I had a vague idea of what Moore’s invitation portended5, and I knew what would happen if I took both those girls and anything unusual occurred. They would giggle6.
We kept Roberta with us for dinner, and when she had gone home to dress, Cathy and I had our argument in earnest. My mother was confined to her room with one of her frequent headaches, and for a while dad hid himself in his paper. Then a grizzled head appeared over the top of it.
“Cathy,” he drawled, “I haven’t a notion what this is all about, but wherever Clay is off to, I’m sure he doesn’t want two girls. Clay, I don’t wish to be rude, but if you are going, won’t you please depart at once? Run upstairs, Catherine, and see if all this loud talking has disturbed your mother.”
Cathy went. She knew better than to oppose dad when he used that tone.
That evening I called for Roberta in my car, and after nine o’clock we arrived at the address written across Moore’s card. It turned out to be half of a detached double dwelling7, standing8 on a corner beyond a block of quiet, respectable red-stone fronts, with a deep lawn between it and the street.
“Ridiculous house,” Bert named it on first sight, and ridiculous house it was in a certain sense. It reminded one of that king in the old fairy tale who “laughed with one side of his face and smiled with the other.”
The half that bore Moore’s number was neat, shining and of unimpeachable9 exterior10. Its yellow brick front was clean, with freshly painted white woodwork; it’s half of the lawn, close-clipped and green, was set with little thriving round flower beds.
The other half had the look of a regular old beggar among houses. The paint, weather-beaten, blistered11 and brown, was no dingier12 than the dirt-freckled bricks. Two or three windows were boarded up. Not one of the rest but mourned a broken pane13 or so. From the dilapidated porch wooden steps all askew14 led to a weed-grown walk. On that side the lawn was a straggling waste of weeds.
Roberta had hopped15 out of the car without waiting for assistance. I joined her and we stood staring at the queer-looking combination.
“Roberta,” I said solemnly after a moment, “there is a grim, grisly secret which I hadn’t meant to alarm you with, but perhaps it is better you should be warned now.”
“Clay! What do you mean?”
“That house!” My voice was a sinister16 whisper. “Don’t you see? ‘Life and death,’ or ‘Chained to the corpse17 of his victim!’ Moore murdered one of the twin houses, and now he must live in the other house as a penance18.”
To my surprise, instead of laughing at my nonsense, she took my arm with a shiver. “Don’t!” she protested. “When you speak so the house isn’t funny any more. It’s horrid19. A-a dead-alive house! Let’s not go in, Clay.”
I felt annoyed, for this last-moment retreat was not like her. I said, “Come along, Berty, and don’t be silly. I suppose one half belongs to Moore and the other to somebody else, and he can’t make the other owner keep his half in repair.”
After some further discussion, we entered the gate at last. I remembered that as we went up Moore’s walk, I threw back my head and glanced upward. The moonlight was so white on the slanting20 house roofs that for just a moment I had an illusion of their being thick with snow.
With snow. Yes, I remembered that illusion afterward21.
Moore had expected me alone, of course, but he needn’t have made that fact quite so obvious. He met us in his library on the second floor, whither a neat, commonplace maid had ushered22 us after a glance at my card.
It was a long, rather heavily furnished room, lined with books to the ceiling. Our first view of it noted23 nothing bizarre or out of the ordinary. Moore was seated reading, but as we were announced he rose quickly. It was when he perceived Roberta and realized that I had brought a companion that I had my first real doubt that Nils had not exaggerated about the man’s temper.
His good-humored, full-lipped mouth seemed to draw inward and straighten to a disagreeably gash-like-effect. The skin over his cheekbones tightened24. A pronounced narrowness between the eyes forced itself suddenly upon the attention. For one instant we faced a man disagreeably different from the one who had parried all Berquist’s thrusts with unshakable good nature.
As he rose and came toward us, however, the ominous25 look melted again to geniality27. “Began to think old Nils had seared you off in earnest, Barbour,” he greeted. “Witch burnings; would still be in order if our wild anarchist28 had his way, eh?”
Rather reluctantly I performed the necessary introductions.
“I had no right to come with Clayton,” Roberta apologized. “But when he told me of your invitation, I— we thought-”
“That you might find some amusement here?” Moore finished for her. “That’s all right, Miss Whitingfield, though the work I am engaged in is a bit serious to be amusing, I fear. Hope you’re not the nervous, screaming sort?” he added, with blunt anxiety.
She flushed a trifle, then laughed. “I’m not — really!” she protested. “But I’ll go away if you wish.”
That was too much for me. “We’ll both leave,” I said very haughtily29. “Sorry to have put you out, Mr. Moore.”
To my astonishment30, for I was really angry, he burst out laughing. It was such a genial26, inoffensive merriment as caught me unawares. I found myself laughing with him, though at what I hadn’t the faintest notion.
“Why, Barbour,” he chuckled31, “you mustn’t take offense32 at a lack of conventional mannerisms on my part. I’m a worker first, last and all the time. Miss Whitingfield, you’re welcome as the flowers in May, but I can no more forget my work nor what is likely to affect it than I can forget my own name. You — aren’t angry with me, are you?”
“N-no — ” she began rather hesitatingly, but just then the door opened behind us and we heard someone enter.
“I am here!”
The words were uttered in a dry, toneless voice. We both turned, and I realized that the “Mystery of the Awful Veiled One” was a mystery no more, or at least had been shorn of its purple drapery.
Of course, I had expected to meet Alicia here, but I think I should have recognized those eyes in any surroundings. They were fully33 as bright, dark, and almost incredibly large and attentive34 as they had seemed behind the veil. For the rest, Mrs. Moore’s slender figure was draped in filmy black, between which and a mass of black hair her face gleamed, a peaked white patch — and with those eyes in it.
“Medium” or not, Mrs. Moore herself was more like the creature of another world than any human being I had ever seen.
“Be seated, Alicia.”
Without troubling to present Roberta, Moore gestured toward a peculiar35-looking chair at one side of the room. The slender creature in black swept toward it obediently.
Having reached the chair, she turned, faced us for a moment, still expressionless save for those terribly attentive eyes, then sank into the chair’s depths.
Roberta was frankly36 staring, and so was I, but my stare had a newly startled quality. Alicia had passed me very closely indeed. My hand still tingled37 where another hand — a bony, fierce little hand — had closed on it in a swift, pinching clasp. And though I was sure that her colorless lips had not moved, four low words had reached my ears distinctly.
“Go away — you! Go.”
I glanced at Berty, but decided38 that she had missed the rude little message. Moore certainly hadn’t heard, for he had gone over to the chair, and was standing behind it when Alicia reached there.
With a slight shrug39 I determined40 that where so much oddity prevailed, this additional eccentricity41 of Mrs. Moore had better be ignored. To think of her as a real person — my hostess — was made difficult by the atmosphere of utter strangeness which her appearance and Moore’s treatment of her had already created.
“You and Miss Whitingfield sit over there,” commanded Moore briskly.
“I’ll explain what we’re about in a minute. You’ll be interested. Can’t avoid it. A little farther off, Miss Whitingfield — do you mind? Alicia is more easily affected42 than other sensitives. More easily affected. Right! Now just a moment and I can talk to you.”
We had seated ourselves as he directed, I some half dozen feet from the enthroned Alicia, Roberta much farther away, well over by the heavily curtained windows.
To the savage43 and to the young “strange” is generally synonymous with “funny.” We exchanged one quick look, then kept our eyes resolutely44 apart. A wave of incipient45 mirth had fairly leaped between us. It was well, I thought, that Cathy had been suppressed.
Then we saw what Moore was doing at the chair, and forgot laughter in amazement46. It must be remembered that Roberta and I were innocent of the least previous experience in this line. Save for some hazy47 knowledge of “spiritualistic fakes” and “mind-reading” of the vaudeville48 type, we were blankly ignorant, and by consequence as unconsciously receptive as a couple of innocent young sponges. But at first we were merely shocked by the brutal49 fact of Moore’s preparations.
I have said that the chair taken by Alicia was a peculiar one. It stood before a pair of black curtains, which concealed50 what in spiritualistic circles is called a cabinet. The chair itself was large, heavy, with a high back and uncommonly51 broad armrests. More, it had about it that look of apparatus52 which one associates with dentists’ and surgeons’ fixtures53. Alicia leaned back in it, her hands resting limp on the armrests.
Then up over each fragile wrist Moore clamped a kind of steel handcuff, attached to the chair arm. Another pair of similar fetters54, extended on short rods from the back, were clasped round her upper arms. And, as if this were not enough — he locked together the two halves of a wide steel band about her waist.
And his wife sat there, inert55 as a porcelain56 doll, her enormous eyes wide open and fixed57 on me in perfectly58 unswerving contemplation.
“All really great mediums will trick you if they can,” said Moore coolly. “Don’t need any object for fraud. Unless you should call the trickery itself an object. Alicia is a great medium. Very — great!”
Suddenly every decent impulse I had rose to revolt. That was a woman in the chair — Moore’s wife — and he treated her, talked about her, as though she were some peculiarly trained and subject animal.
I rose sharply. “Mrs. Moore, is this affair proceeding59 with your consent?”
“Don’t address the psychic60!” snapped her husband over one shoulder.
But I wasn’t afraid of him. At that moment I could have thrashed the man cheerfully — and with ease, for I carried no superfluous61 flesh in those days, and had inches the better of him in height and reach. Roberta was suddenly at my side, and I knew — by the excited shine of her eyes — that she sensed my emotion and approved it.
“Mrs. Moore,” I repeated “are you enduring this of your own free will? Moore, attempt to intimidate62 her, and you’ll be sorry!”
He straightened, and turned on me in earnest, but Alicia herself broke the strain.
“Sit down, boy,” she said in her dry, toneless voice. “What James says of fraud is true. But he does not mean what you think. I am not conscious of what I do in trance, and the self then in control has no moral standards. Were my earthly limbs not bound, no phenomena63 could be credited, and my own guides have advised the construction of the chair. The steel bands are padded with felt, and do not hurt me. I did not speak to you when I entered, because at some times the guides like me to be silent. This is tiring me. You must not quarrel with James. Violent emotion tires me. A great evil will come to you through me, but now you must sit down and be very quiet. I am tired.”
For the first time, white lids drooped64 over those unnatural65 eyes. The closing of them seemed to rob her face of the last trace of fellow-humanity. Moore was grinning again, though rather tensely.
“Please sit down, Barbour,” he pleaded in a very low voice. “I should have explained a few things to you in advance. Alicia will be asleep directly, and then we can talk.”
I did sit down, and Roberta retired66 to her window. That toneless, indifferent voice of Alicia’s, that cool exactitude of statement, had not seemed the expression of a meek67 and terrorized soul. But if she were not afraid of Moore, why had she been so surreptitious in asking — in ordering me to leave? “I did not speak to you when I entered — ” But she had spoken to me. “A great evil will come to you through me — ” And she said it like a remark on the weather!
I gave up suddenly. All my curiosity was submerged in a wave of healthy revolt against the obviously abnormal. A vague unhappiness came with it, and the desire above everything to take Roberta and get out.
Alicia was breathing regularly now, in long, deep breaths, soft but audible. Leaving her, Moore drew up a chair between Roberta and me, seated himself, crossed one leg over his knee, and beamed amiably68.
“Mr. Moore,” I began, but he checked me, finger in air.
“Sh! Trifle lower, please. I know what you’re thinking, Barbour, and I don’t blame you. Not in-the-least! My fault entirely69. Now let’s drop all that and forget it. You are two very intelligent people, but I can never remember that the average man or woman knows as much about sensitives as a baby knows of trigonometry. Now, why did I invite you here, Barbour?”
“For an interesting evening, you said.”
“Exactly! And you’ll have it. First of many, I hope. But don’t expect any messages from your deceased grandfathers tonight, for you won’t get ’em.”
“Very well,” I assented70. “Bert, do you hear that? Our revered71 ancestors won’t speak to us!”
“And don’t imagine this is a matter for joking, either,” reproved Moore, but still amiably. “I did not say that purely72 spiritual forces would not be involved. But a psychic — a medium — has all the complexity73 of the highest type of nervous human — plus. And it’s the plus sign that complicates74 matters. You might get messages through from almost anyone — eventually. You’ll seem to get them tonight. But they won’t be real. Alicia has more different selves than the proverbial cat has lives. And all wanting a chance to talk, and parade around, and pass themselves off as anybody you’d care to name, from Julius Caesar to your mother’s deceased aunt’s nephew. Very remarkable75!”
“I should say so!”
We glanced rather anxiously at Alicia’s quiescent76 figure. But no sudden procession of selves had yet appeared.
“That, however, is beside the mark,” announced Moore briskly. “In such commonplace manifestations77, Alicia dematerializes a percentage of her own fleshly bulk, externalizes and projects it from her subliminal78 consciousness. Aside from proving the accepted laws of matter to be false, the phenomena are of small importance.”
He paused again.
“I should think,” ventured Roberta, carefully avoiding my eyes, “that disproving the laws of matter would be — might be almost enough for one evening.”
“The accepted laws,” he corrected rather sharply. “Crooks-Oschorowicz–Lombroso-Bottazzi–Lodge — I could name you over a dozen great scientists who have already disproved them in that way. But they had only Tusapia Paladino and lesser79 psychics80 to work with. We have — Alicia!”
A vague memory stirred in me. “Paladino?” I said. “You mean that famous Italian medium? I thought she was exposed as a fraud.”
He frowned. This was a sore subject with him, though I did not know why till much later.
“I tell you,” he scowled81, “they are all frauds — when they have the chance. The first impulse of hysteria is toward deception82. Genuine mediumship and hysteria are practically inseparable. What can you expect? Paladino was as genuine as Alicia, and Alicia will fool you outrageously83, given the least opportunity. Quite — scandalously — unscrupulous!”
“You’re very frank about it,” I couldn’t help saying.
“Why not? You heard Alicia’s own statement in that regard. She works with me to overcome the disadvantage. Mabel and Maudie are manageable enough, but Horace is a born joker. For a long time Horace fought bitterly against the idea of that chair, and only yielded when I threatened to give up the sittings.”
“These people are friends who attend the seances?” I inquired, thinking that Moore had Nils’ habit of referring to all his acquaintances by their Christian84 names.
Moore appeared mildly surprised.
“Don’t you really know anything at all of spiritualistic investigation85?”
“Sorry. I’m afraid I’ve never had enough faith in spooks to be interested.”
“Never mind. We’ll correct that!” assured Moore calmly. “Mabel and Maudie and Horace are three of Alicia’s spirit guides. She believes them to be real entities86 of the spirit world — people who have passed beyond, you understand — but I doubt it. Doubt it — very seriously! In fact, I have reason to be positive that those three, along with several subsidiary ‘spirits,’ are just so many phases of Alicia’s subconscious87. On the other band, Jason Gibbs, her real ‘control,’ is a spirit to be reckoned with. You will find Jason an amazingly interesting man on acquaintance. And now that I have explained fully, suppose we take a look at the cabinet?”
Roberta and I rose and followed him, not sure whether to be amused or impressed. His statement that he had “explained fully” was a joke, so far as we were concerned. What nebulous ideas of a seance we had possessed88 were far removed from anything we had met tonight. To sit in a circle, holding hands in the dark; to hear mysterious raps and poundings; to glimpse, perhaps, the cheese-clothy forms of highly fictitious89 “ghosts” — that had been our previous conception of a “sitting” culled90 from general and half-forgotten reading.
Moore was so utterly91 matter-of-fact and unmystical of manner that he probably impressed us more deeply than if he had attempted to inspire awe92.
And, I reflected, if he were a charlatan93, where was his profit? Nils himself had assured me that Mrs. Moore was not a professional medium.
The fact was that I had emerged from college almost wholly ignorant of the modern debate between the physicist94 and the spiritist — ignorant that science itself had been driven to admission of supernormal powers in certain “victims of hysteria,” but stood firm on the ground that these powers were of physical and terrestrial origin.
James Barton Moore, however, was a born materialist95 who had accepted the spiritistic theory from an intellectual viewpoint. The result showed in his matter-of-fact way of dealing96 with the occult. He had, moreover, one characteristic of a certain type of scientist in less weird97 fields. He would have put a stranger or his best friend on the vivisection table, could he by that means have hoped to acquire one small modicum98 of the knowledge he sought.
Figuratively, he already had me on the table that night.
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1
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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portended
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| v.预示( portend的过去式和过去分词 )；预兆；给…以警告；预告 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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dingier
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| adj.暗淡的，乏味的( dingy的比较级 )；肮脏的 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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slanting
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afterward
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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anarchist
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haughtily
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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fully
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attentive
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peculiar
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frankly
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tingled
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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vaudeville
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| n.歌舞杂耍表演 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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intimidate
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| vt.恐吓，威胁 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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complicates
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| 使复杂化( complicate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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quiescent
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| adj.静止的，不活动的，寂静的 | |
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manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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subliminal
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| adj.下意识的，潜意识的；太弱或太快以至于难以觉察的 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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psychics
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| 心理学，心灵学； （自称）通灵的或有特异功能的人，巫师( psychic的名词复数 ) | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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outrageously
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| 凶残地； 肆无忌惮地； 令人不能容忍地； 不寻常地 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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entities
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| 实体对像； 实体，独立存在体，实际存在物( entity的名词复数 ) | |
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subconscious
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| n./adj.潜意识(的)，下意识(的) | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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culled
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| v.挑选，剔除( cull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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charlatan
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| n.骗子；江湖医生；假内行 | |
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physicist
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| n.物理学家，研究物理学的人 | |
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materialist
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| n. 唯物主义者 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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modicum
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| n.少量，一小份 | |
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