The Beetle: A Mystery

by Richard Marsh

  CHAPTER II

  INSIDE

  I realised, and, so to speak, mentally photographed all the littledetails of the house in front of which I was standing with what almostamounted to a gleam of preternatural perception. An instant before, theworld swam before my eyes. I saw nothing. Now I saw everything, with aclearness which, as it were, was shocking.

  Above all, I saw the open window. I stared at it, conscious, as I didso, of a curious catching of the breath. It was so near to me; so verynear. I had but to stretch out my hand to thrust it through theaperture. Once inside, my hand would at least be dry. How it rained outthere! My scanty clothing was soaked; I was wet to the skin! I wasshivering. And, each second, it seemed to rain still faster. My teethwere chattering. The damp was liquefying the very marrow in my bones.

  And, inside that open window, it was, it must be, so warm, so dry!

  There was not a soul in sight. Not a human being anywhere near. Ilistened; there was not a sound. I alone was at the mercy of the soddennight. Of all God's creatures the only one unsheltered from thefountains of Heaven which He had opened. There was not one to see whatI might do; not one to care. I need fear no spy. Perhaps the house wasempty; nay, probably. It was my plain duty to knock at the door, rousethe inmates, and call attention to their oversight,--the open window.The least they could do would be to reward me for my pains. But,suppose the place was empty, what would be the use of knocking? Itwould be to make a useless clatter. Possibly to disturb theneighbourhood, for nothing. And, even if the people were at home, Imight go unrewarded. I had learned, in a hard school, the world'singratitude. To have caused the window to be closed--the invitingwindow, the tempting window, the convenient window!--and then to be nobetter for it after all, but still to be penniless, hopeless, hungry,out in the cold and the rain--better anything than that. In such asituation, too late, I should say to myself that mine had been theconduct of a fool. And I should say it justly too. To be sure.

  Leaning over the low wall I found that I could very easily put my handinside the room. How warm it was in there! I could feel the differenceof temperature in my fingertips. Very quietly I stepped right over thewall. There was just room to stand in comfort between the window andthe wall. The ground felt to the foot as if it were cemented. Stoopingdown, I peered through the opening. I could see nothing. It was blackas pitch inside. The blind was drawn right up; it seemed incrediblethat anyone could be at home, and have gone to bed, leaving the blindup, and the window open. I placed my ear to the crevice. How still itwas! Beyond doubt, the place was empty.

  I decided to push the window up another inch or two, so as to enable meto reconnoitre. If anyone caught me in the act, then there would be anopportunity to describe the circumstances, and to explain how I wasjust on the point of giving the alarm. Only, I must go carefully. Insuch damp weather it was probable that the sash would creak.

  Not a bit of it. It moved as readily and as noiselessly as if it hadbeen oiled. This silence of the sash so emboldened me that I raised itmore than I intended. In fact, as far as it would go. Not by a sounddid it betray me. Bending over the sill I put my head and half my bodyinto the room. But I was no forwarder. I could see nothing. Not athing. For all I could tell the room might be unfurnished. Indeed, thelikelihood of such an explanation began to occur to me. I might havechanced upon an empty house. In the darkness there was nothing tosuggest the contrary. What was I to do?

  Well, if the house was empty, in such a plight as mine I might be saidto have a moral, if not a legal, right, to its bare shelter. Who, witha heart in his bosom, would deny it me? Hardly the most punctiliouslandlord. Raising myself by means of the sill I slipped my legs intothe room.

  The moment I did so I became conscious that, at any rate, the room wasnot entirely unfurnished. The floor was carpeted. I have had my feet onsome good carpets in my time; I know what carpets are; but never did Istand upon a softer one than that. It reminded me, somehow, even then,of the turf in Richmond Park,--it caressed my instep, and sprangbeneath my tread. To my poor, travel-worn feet, it was luxury after thepuddly, uneven road. Should I, now I had ascertained that--the roomwas, at least, partially furnished, beat a retreat? Or should I push myresearches further? It would have been rapture to have thrown off myclothes, and to have sunk down, on the carpet, then and there, tosleep. But,--I was so hungry; so famine-goaded; what would I not havegiven to have lighted on something good to eat!

  I moved a step or two forward, gingerly, reaching out with my hands,lest I struck, unawares, against some unseen thing. When I had takenthree or four such steps, without encountering an obstacle, or, indeed,anything at all, I began, all at once, to wish I had not seen thehouse; that I had passed it by; that I had not come through the window;that I were safely out of it again. I became, on a sudden, aware, thatsomething was with me in the room. There was nothing, ostensible, tolead me to such a conviction; it may be that my faculties wereunnaturally keen; but, all at once, I knew that there was somethingthere. What was more, I had a horrible persuasion that, thoughunseeing, I was seen; that my every movement was being watched.

  What it was that was with me I could not tell; I could not even guess.It was as though something in my mental organisation had been strickenby a sudden paralysis. It may seem childish to use such language; but Iwas overwrought, played out; physically speaking, at my last counter;and, in an instant, without the slightest warning, I was conscious of avery curious sensation, the like of which I had never felt before, andthe like of which I pray that I never may feel again,--a sensation ofpanic fear. I remained rooted to the spot on which I stood, not daringto move, fearing to draw my breath. I felt that the presence with me inthe room was something strange, something evil.

  I do not know how long I stood there, spell-bound, but certainly forsome considerable space of time. By degrees, as nothing moved, nothingwas seen, nothing was heard, and nothing happened, I made an effort tobetter play the man. I knew that, at the moment, I played the cur. Andendeavoured to ask myself of what it was I was afraid. I was shiveringat my own imaginings. What could be in the room, to have suffered me toopen the window and to enter unopposed? Whatever it was, was surely tothe full as great a coward as I was, or why permit, unchecked, myburglarious entry. Since I had been allowed to enter, the probabilitywas that I should be at liberty to retreat,--and I was sensible of amuch keener desire to retreat than I had ever had to enter.

  I had to put the greatest amount of pressure upon myself before I couldsummon up sufficient courage to enable me to even turn my head upon myshoulders,--and the moment I did so I turned it back again. Whatconstrained me, to save my soul I could not have said,--but I wasconstrained. My heart was palpitating in my bosom; I could hear itbeat. I was trembling so that I could scarcely stand. I was overwhelmedby a fresh flood of terror. I stared in front of me with eyes in which,had it been light, would have been seen the frenzy of unreasoning fear.My ears were strained so that I listened with an acuteness of tensionwhich was painful.

  Something moved. Slightly, with so slight a sound, that it wouldscarcely have been audible to other ears save mine. But I heard. I waslooking in the direction from which the movement came, and, as Ilooked, I saw in front of me two specks of light. They had not beenthere a moment before, that I would swear. They were there now. Theywere eyes,--I told myself they were eyes. I had heard how cats' eyesgleam in the dark, though I had never seen them, and I said to myselfthat these were cats' eyes; that the thing in front of me was nothingbut a cat. But I knew I lied. I knew that these were eyes, and I knewthey were not cats' eyes, but what eyes they were I did not know,--nordared to think.

  They moved,--towards me. The creature to which the eyes belonged wascoming closer. So intense was my desire to fly that I would much ratherhave died than stood there still; yet I could not control a limb; mylimbs were as if they were not mine. The eyes came on,--noiselessly. Atfirst they were between two and three feet from the ground; but, on asudden, there was a squelching sound, as if some yielding body had beensquashed
upon the floor. The eyes vanished,--to reappear, a momentafterwards, at what I judged to be a distance of some six inches fromthe floor. And they again came on.

  So it seemed that the creature, whatever it was to which the eyesbelonged, was, after all, but small. Why I did not obey the franticlonging which I had to flee from it, I cannot tell; I only know, Icould not. I take it that the stress and privations which I had latelyundergone, and which I was, even then, still undergoing, had much to dowith my conduct at that moment, and with the part I played in all thatfollowed. Ordinarily I believe that I have as high a spirit as theaverage man, and as solid a resolution; but when one has been draggedthrough the Valley of Humiliation, and plunged, again and again, intothe Waters of Bitterness and Privation, a man can be constrained to acourse of action of which, in his happier moments, he would have deemedhimself incapable. I know this of my own knowledge.

  Slowly the eyes came on, with a strange slowness, and as they came theymoved from side to side as if their owner walked unevenly. Nothingcould have exceeded the horror with which I awaited theirapproach,--except my incapacity to escape them. Not for an instant didmy glance pass from them,--I could not have shut my eyes for all thegold the world contains!--so that as they came closer I had to lookright down to what seemed to be almost the level of my feet. And, atlast, they reached my feet. They never paused. On a sudden I feltsomething on my boot, and, with a sense of shrinking, horror, nausea,rendering me momentarily more helpless, I realised that the creaturewas beginning to ascend my legs, to climb my body. Even then what itwas I could not tell,--it mounted me, apparently, with as much ease asif I had been horizontal instead of perpendicular. It was as though itwere some gigantic spider,--a spider of the nightmares; a monstrousconception of some dreadful vision. It pressed lightly against myclothing with what might, for all the world, have been spider's legs.There was an amazing host of them,--I felt the pressure of eachseparate one. They embraced me softly, stickily, as if the creatureglued and unglued them, each time it moved.

  Higher and higher! It had gained my loins. It was moving towards thepit of my stomach. The helplessness with which I suffered its invasionwas not the least part of my agony,--it was that helplessness which weknow in dreadful dreams. I understood, quite well, that if I did butgive myself a hearty shake, the creature would fall off; but I had nota muscle at my command.

  As the creature mounted its eyes began to play the part of two smalllamps; they positively emitted rays of light. By their rays I began toperceive faint outlines of its body. It seemed larger than I hadsupposed. Either the body itself was slightly phosphorescent, or it wasof a peculiar yellow hue. It gleamed in the darkness. What it was therewas still nothing to positively show, but the impression grew upon methat it was some member of the spider family, some monstrous member, ofthe like of which I had never heard or read. It was heavy, so heavyindeed, that I wondered how, with so slight a pressure, it managed toretain its hold,--that it did so by the aid of some adhesive substanceat the end of its legs I was sure,--I could feel it stick. Its weightincreased as it ascended,--and it smelt! I had been for some time awarethat it emitted an unpleasant, foetid odour; as it neared my face itbecame so intense as to be unbearable.

  It was at my chest. I became more and more conscious of anuncomfortable wobbling motion, as if each time it breathed its bodyheaved. Its forelegs touched the bare skin about the base of my neck;they stuck to it,--shall I ever forget the feeling? I have it often inmy dreams. While it hung on with those in front it seemed to draw itsother legs up after it. It crawled up my neck, with hideous slowness, aquarter of an inch at a time, its weight compelling me to brace themuscles of my back. It reached my chin, it touched my lips,--and Istood still and bore it all, while it enveloped my face with its huge,slimy, evil-smelling body, and embraced me with its myriad legs. Thehorror of it made me mad. I shook myself like one stricken by theshaking ague. I shook the creature off. It squashed upon the floor.Shrieking like some lost spirit, turning, I dashed towards the window.As I went, my foot, catching in some obstacle, I fell headlong to thefloor.

  Picking myself up as quickly as I could I resumed my flight,--rain orno rain, oh to get out of that room! I already had my hand upon thesill, in another instant I should have been over it,--then, despite myhunger, my fatigues, let anyone have stopped me if they could!--whensomeone behind me struck a light.