A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

forth to—execute—the doll-maker. 2 = where she selected her victims from those _ who came to buy. She killed by means of a poisonous salve which she found means to use after winning the confidence of her victims. She made effigies—dolls—of __ these, in their faithful image, in faithful likeness to them. These dolls she then _ sent out on her errands of murder—ani- _ mated, or at least so she implied, by some- thing of the vital or, if you will, spiritual essence of those whose bodies they coun- terfeited; something that was wholly evil . . . little demons with slender stilet- tos .. . who went forth under care of a white-faced, terror-stricken girl whom she called her niece, subject so long to her hypnotic control that she had become, literally, another self of the doll-maker. But whether illusion or reality, of one thing there was no doubt—the dolls killed. “Ricori was one of her victims, but recovered under my care in this house. He was superstitious, believed Mme. Man- dilip a witch, and vowed her—execution. He kidnaped the niece, and in this house ‘I placed her under my own _ hypnotic control to draw from her the secrets of the doll-maker. She died in this hypnosis, crying out that the doll-maker’s hands were round her heart—strangling it...” He paused, his eyes haunted as though ‘seeing again some dreadful picture, then went steadily on: “But before she died she told us that Mme. Mandilip had sessed a lover in Prague to whom she had taught the secret of the living dolls. And that same night Ricori and some of his men went She was executed—by fire. I, though against my will, was a witness of that incredible -scene—incredible still to me, although I. Saw: it... .” : HE PAUSED, then lifted his glass with steady hand. “Well, it seems that de Keradel was that lover. It seems that besides the secret of the dolls, he knows the secret of the shadows—or is it the Demoiselle who knows that, I wonder? And what else. of the dark wisdom—who knows? Well, that is that— and now all is to be done again. But this will be more difficult—” ‘He said, musingly, “I wish Ricori were A. MERRITT’S FANTASY here to help us. But he is in Italy. Nor could I reach him in time. But his ablest man, one who passed through the whole — experience with us, who was there at the execution—he is here. McCann! I'll get McCann!” He arose: “Dr. Caranac, you will excuse me? - William—lI leave things in your hands. I’m going to my study and then.to bed— I am—shaken. Helen, my dear, take care of Dr. Caranac.” He bowed and withdrew. Bill began, “Now, about the doll-maker—” It was close to midnight when he had finished that story, and I had found no more questions to ask. As I was going out, he said: “You bowled de Keradel almost clean out when you spoke of—what was it?— the Alkar-Az and the Gatherer within the Cairn, Alan. What the hell were they?” I answered: “Bill, I don’t know. The words seemed to come to my lips without volition. May- be they did come from the Demoiselle— as I told her father.” But deep within me I knew that was not true—that I did know, had known, the Alkar-Az and its dread Gatherer— and that some day I would remember.” Helen said, “Bill, turn your head.” She threw her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine, savagely ; she whispered, “It makes my heart sing that you are here—and it breaks my heart that you are here. I’m afraid—I’m so afraid for you, Alan.” She leaned back, laughing a little. “I suppose you're thinking this is the pre-. cipitancy of my generation, and its morals—and maybe vulgar, too. But it really isn’t as sudden as it seems, darling. Remember—I’ve loved you since the hornets and snakes.” I gave her back her kiss. The revela- tion that had begun when I had met her had come to a complete and affirmative | conclusion. As I made my way to the club, all that was in my mind was the fact of Helen, the burnished copper helmet of her hair and her eyes of golden am r. The face of — _the Demoiselle, if I saw it at all, was nothing but a mist of silver-gilt over two purple splotches in a featureless white comircbooks:com Fe er ee yt ae TRL, PREC ORS RR ERCE LE Pe . eld aan, =.