A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

asked: “Have you seen enough by now?” I said, “Yes;” and we turned back. When we went by McCann he was still lounging beside the gate as though he had not moved. But there was no paper on the road. The garrison had seen us coming, and the postern was swinging open. We returned to the house the same way we had gone. Dahut was flushed with the ride, full of gayety. She said: “I’ll bathe. Then we'll have a lunch on the boat.” “Fine,” I said. “And I hope it doesn’t make me as sleepy as it did yesterday.” Her eyes narrowed, but my face was entirely innocent. She smiled: “It won’t, I’m sure. You're getting acclimated.” I said, morosely: “I hope so. I must have been pretty dull company at dinner last night.” She smiled again. “But you weren't. You pleased my father immensely.” She went into the house laughing. I was very glad I had pleased her father. ig HAD been a thoroughly delightful sail with a thoroughly charming girl. Only when one of the tranced crew knelt as he passed did I feel the sinister hidden undertow. And now I sat at dinner with \ de Keradel and the Demoiselle. De Kera- del’s conversation was so fascinating that he had made me forget that I was a prisoner. I had discussed with him much that I had wished to on the night Bill had per- suaded me to be so objectionable. If at times his manner was irritatingly too ~ much like that of a hierophant instruct- ing a neophyte in elementary mysteries, ot if he calmly advanced as fact matter x which modern science holds to be the . darkest of superstitions, investing them with all the authenticity of proven ex- perience—it made no difference to me. The man’s learning was as extraordinary as his mind, and I wondered how in one short life he could have acquired it. He spoke of the riots of Osiris, the black worship of Typhon whom the Egyptians also named Set of the Red Hair, the Eleusinian and the Delphic mysteries as though he had witnessed them. Described them in minutest de- tail—and others more ancient and darker, long buried in age-rotten shrouds of = ; , ; os oe * ! 7s ne hint . £ Na CREEP, SHADOW! 83 Time. The evil secrets of the Sabbat were open to him, and once he spoke of the worship of Kore, the Daughter, who was known also as Persephone, and in another form as Hecate, and by other names back, back through the endless vistas of the ages—the wife of Hades, the Queen of the Shades whose daughters were the Furies. It was then I told him of what I had beheld in the Delphian cave when the Greek priest with the pagan soul had evoked Kore .. . and I had watched that majestic—that dreadful—form taking shape in the swirls of smoke from what was being consumed upon her thrice ancient altar... He listened intently, without inter- rupting, as one to whom the story held | no surprise. He asked: “And had she come to him before?” I answered: “I do not know.” He said, directly to Demoiselle: “But even if so, the fact that she appeared to— to Dr. Caranac—is most significant. It is proof that he—”’ Dahut interrupted him, and I thought . there was some warning in the glance she gave him: “That he is—acceptable. Yes, my father.” : De Keradel considered me. “An il- luminating experience, indeed. I am wondering, in the light of it, and of other things you have told me—I am wonder- ing why you were so—so hostile—to such — ideas the night we met.” I answered, bluntly.: “I was more than half drunk—and ready to fight any- body. ”) He bared his teeth at that, then laughed outright. “You do not fear to speak the truth.” “Neither when drunk nor sober,” I said. He scrutinized me silently for mo- ments. He spoke, more as though to himself than to me: “I do not know... she may be right . . . if I could wholly trust him it would mean much to us... . he has curiosity . . , he does not shrink from the dark wisdom ... but has he courage ...?” I laughed at that and said, baldly: “If I did not have—would I be here?” “Quite true, my father.” Dahut was smiling maliciously. : Eomichooks: co