The Third Macabre MEGAPACK®. Lafcadio Hearn

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СКАЧАТЬ food enough of one sort or another to satisfy our immediate needs. There was an awful task before us, and I explained it to Helen. We must consign those dead bodies to the sea. She shuddered at the thought, but, like an obedient child, tried to help me. How I managed to encase those silent forms in canvas I hardly know, but I did, and got them to the side of the ship. Then I got my prayer book and read the blessed burial service, while Helen looked on in troubled wonder. Then came the hardest task of all, but it was done, and the bodies, one after the other, fell with a great splash into the still sea. I had thought to bind heavy weights to the feet, and they sank at once, and Helen and I were left quite alone. I am writing this with great difficulty, for we are dying—dying of thirst. Why I write I do not know. There is no water on board. The sailors, after filling their casks from the great casks in the hold, left the water running. When we sought to draw there was not a drop left. There is a change coming over Helen. She sometimes looks at me strangely. She seems almost shy. I wonder what it is. Is memory coming back? Or has she learned that she is a woman and I a man? But she is not for me. There is John Bruce, and I vowed to take her safely to him, and I shall—. Mother, good God. I can’t write more. I see that the end is.…

      CHAPTER V.

      The writing in the little water-soaked book became entirely illegible. Indeed, the last few lines were very indistinct, and showed the failing of mental and physical strength. I sat staring at the yellow page and then looked up at Judson. He was gazing intently at me.

      “Well, go on; go on,” he said impatiently.

      “That’s all,” said I.

      He seized the book from my hands, and turned the leaves feverishly. “Yes, yes. That is all. Why man, we’re not much wiser than we were. We’ve got something, but we haven’t solved the mystery of the headless skeletons.”

      “No, nor are we likely to,” said I.

      “Not likely to? We must!” said Judson, in a sharp, strained voice. He seemed to be much excited. I looked at my watch.

      “It’s Sunday morning,” said I, and luckily Sunday, I thought. Judson wouldn’t be good for much in a trial after such an evening as this. As for myself, I was tired and hungry, and I said so.

      “So am I,” said Judson, dropping the excited air, but with an effort. “Sit still a moment.” He came back soon with a tray on which were cold meat, and bread and butter, and crackers, and Rochefort cheese, and a bottle of Macon Vieux.

      “You evidently know what a hungry newspaper man wants in the middle of the night,” said I.

      “I know what a hungry lawyer wants,” and he drew the cork.

      “Now,” said he, after we had taken the edge off our appetites and were enjoying the Burgundy, “we must know the rest of that story.”

      “Easier said than done.”

      “Why so? Does it seem more difficult to get a message directly from Arthur Hartley than to get that journal from the bottom of the ocean? I do not think so. This night’s experience has given me a confidence in the power of will over nature that nothing can shake. There is but one obstacle that stands in the way of our success. The woman whom you call the medium was thoroughly prostrated, as you saw. She seemed badly frightened, too. She said that she had never had such an experience: that she felt that she could not live through another. As she expressed it, she felt that she had been the battle ground where two great forces had met and contended. I soothed her as best I could and sent her home. I did not tell her that I thought that she was right. She was. She was the unconscious medium through which will overcame the forces of nature. This evening she must be the medium through which, in obedience to our will, the Spirit of Arthur Hartley shall speak with us.”

      “Suppose she refuses.”

      “She will obey me, or rather my will,” said Judson quietly. “It’s merely a question of whether it is safe to subject her to the ordeal. But as it will be nothing compared with that she has just been through I shall attempt it, if she is at all able to bear it. I must have that mystery solved.”

      * * * *

      I slept very late that morning and joined the family at the Sunday afternoon dinner; and then went with Judson to the library to smoke.

      “It’s all right,” he said, as soon as we were seated. “She will come this evening.”

      “Will all those other persons be here?” I asked.

      “Oh, no. You and I and the woman only.”

      It was ten o’clock that evening when Judson entered the library, where I sat reading before the glowing grate, and said:

      “She’s here. Come into the parlor.”

      It was with more than ordinary emotions that I followed him. The medium was the only person in the room. The cabinet still stood where it had stood twenty-four hours before. She looked the picture of ill health. Great hollows were beneath the tired eyes, and she moved feebly. She bowed gravely to me, and entered the cabinet. Judson turned the gas down low.

      “If you will remain entirely passive,” he said softly, “I think we shall get the communication without trouble.” There was a calm confidence in his voice, quite different from the intensity of his manner the night before. We sat quietly for many minutes, until I began to grow uneasy. I tried to think of nothing with very poor success, but while I was making the effort strenuously there came from the cabinet a clear, firm voice. Its tones were something like those in which the woman the night before had said: “What do you wish?” but as the voice proceeded it took on a manlier tone, with that indescribable accent we call “English.” These were the words:

      “Since you wish it, I will finish the story of my life on earth. Listen. When I ceased writing in my book on the Albatross it was because I had lost control of my pen, and of my mind as well. I managed to crawl to the deck. Helen was lying motionless in the shadow of the companion hatch. I threw myself down by her side. She put out her hand and grasped mine, and a flush crossed her face. I was too weak to speak, and thus hand in hand we lay for I don’t know how long. Gradually I lost consciousness, perhaps in sleep. At all events, my spirit was not free. The frail body still had strength enough to retain it. I was aroused by something dropping on my face. As consciousness came back I saw that the sky had become overcast; that a cool breeze was blowing, and that a gentle rain was falling. Helen was sitting erect and with parted lips drinking in the grateful rain-laden air. I tried to rise, but could not. She was much stronger than I, and at my direction went below and brought blankets and clothes, which she spread on the deck that they might catch the falling drops. She seemed quite vigorous, and already I felt my own strength coming back. Soon she was able to squeeze water from a blanket into a small can which stood by the mast. We were in too great agony of thirst to think of small matters of neatness. She offered the can to me.

      “‘Drink, yourself, Helen,’ I said.

      “‘No,’ she answered, with a smile. ‘No, you need it most.’ And kneeling by my side, she slipped her arm under my head, and with her other hand held the water to my lips.

      “I drank eagerly. The draught was life to me. Never had water such strength-giving power. I hardly noticed that it left a queer taste upon my lips. I sat erect. Helen, with her arm still around my neck, drank what remained in the can. Then she looked me full in the face. There was a new expression in the lovely eyes; the old vague, calm look had gone. A deep flush was on her brow as she spoke:

      “‘Arthur,’ СКАЧАТЬ