A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

fee a be ‘ CREEP, SHADOW! 109 paupers and have enough to spare. But his would enrich it, and it would be ac- ceptable to... Him. He... has told me so. It would strengthen His draught. And... He... has asked for it.” She asked, slowly, “And if I refuse?” “Tt will not save him, my daughter.” Again he waited for her to speak, then said with simulated and malicious won- der, “What—a Dahut of Ys to hesitate between her father and her lover! This man has a debt to pay, my daughter. An ancient one—since it was for one who bore his name an ancestress of yours betrayed _ another father. Or was it you—Dahut? It is my duty to cancel that ancient wrong .. . lest, perchance it should recur.” She asked, quietly, “And if I refuse— what of me?” He laughed, “How can I tell? Now, I am swayed by my fatherly impulses. But when I sit beside... Him... what you may mean to me I cannot know. Perhaps —nothing.” She asked, “What shape will He as- - sume?” - “Any or all. There is no shape he can- not take. Be assured that it will not be the inchoatic blackness which the dull minds of those who evoked... Him... by the rites of the Cairn forced upon... Him No, no—He might even take the shape of your lover, Dahut. Why not? He... is inclined to you, my daughter.” Now at this my skin grew cold, and the hatred I felt for him was like a band of hot iron around my temples, and | gath- ered myself to leap through the curtains and lock my hands around his throat. But the shadows held me back and whispered, and the ghosts of the old house whispered with them—‘‘Not yet! Not yet!” He said, “Be wise, my daughter. Al- ways this man has betrayed you. What are you with your shadows? What was Helen with her dolls? Children. Chil- dren playing with toys. With shadows and dolls! Pass from childhood, my daughter—give me the blood of your lover.” She answered, surprisingly, “A child! I had forgotten that I had ever been a child. Would to God you had left me the child I was in Brittany—not made of me what you have.” He made no reply to that. She seemed to wait for one; then said, tranquilly : “So you ask for the blood of my lover? Well—you shall not have it.” HERE was the crash of an overthrown . chair. I drew the curtain a hair’s breadth aside and peered in. De Keradel stood at the head of the table glaring at Dahut. But it was not the face nor the body of the de Keradel I had known. His eyes were no longer pale blue... . they were black, and his silvery hair seemed black and his body had grown... and long arms reached out and long ta- loned fingers clutched at Dahut, She threw something down upon the table between her and him. I could not see what it was, but it sped like a racing, small, and shining wave straight at him, And he threw himself back from it, and stood trembling, eyes again blue but suf- fused with blood, and body shrunken. ‘Beware, my father! Not yet do you sit on the throne with... Him. And I am _ still of the sea, my father. So beware!” There was a shuffle of feet behind me. The blank-eyed butler was at my side. He started to kneel—and then the vagueness went from his eyes. He sprang at me, mouth opening to cry alarm. Before he could make a sound, my hands were around his throat, thumbs crushing into his larynx, my knee in his groin. With a strength I had never before known I lifted him by his neck and held him up from the floor. His legs wrapped around me and I thrust my head under his chin and drew it sharply up. There was a faint snap and his body went limp. I carried it back along the hall and set it noiselessly on the floor. The whole brief struggle had been soundless. His eyes, blank enough now, stared up at me. I searched — him. In his belt was.a sheath and in that a long, curved and razor-sharp knife. Now I had a weapon. I rolled the body under a deep settle, stole back to the living room and peeped through the curtains. It was empty, Dahut and de Keradel gone. I stepped back for a moment into the cover of the curtains. I knew now what it was the ghosts of the old house had feared. Knew the meaning of the trem- bling and the rhythmic thudding. The cavern of the sacrifices had been destroyed. It had served its purpose. How had de — Eomichbooks ((0)