The King in Yellow

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The King in Yellow Page 3

by Robert W. Chambers


  III

  One morning early in May I stood before the steel safe in my bedroom,trying on the golden jewelled crown. The diamonds flashed fire as Iturned to the mirror, and the heavy beaten gold burned like a halo aboutmy head. I remembered Camilla's agonized scream and the awful wordsechoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines inthe first act, and I dared not think of what followed--dared not, evenin the spring sunshine, there in my own room, surrounded with familiarobjects, reassured by the bustle from the street and the voices of theservants in the hallway outside. For those poisoned words had droppedslowly into my heart, as death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheet and isabsorbed. Trembling, I put the diadem from my head and wiped my forehead,but I thought of Hastur and of my own rightful ambition, and I rememberedMr. Wilde as I had last left him, his face all torn and bloody from theclaws of that devil's creature, and what he said--ah, what he said. Thealarm bell in the safe began to whirr harshly, and I knew my time was up;but I would not heed it, and replacing the flashing circlet upon my headI turned defiantly to the mirror. I stood for a long time absorbed in thechanging expression of my own eyes. The mirror reflected a face which waslike my own, but whiter, and so thin that I hardly recognized it And allthe time I kept repeating between my clenched teeth, "The day has come!the day has come!" while the alarm in the safe whirred and clamoured, andthe diamonds sparkled and flamed above my brow. I heard a door open butdid not heed it. It was only when I saw two faces in the mirror:--it wasonly when another face rose over my shoulder, and two other eyes metmine. I wheeled like a flash and seized a long knife from mydressing-table, and my cousin sprang back very pale, crying: "Hildred!for God's sake!" then as my hand fell, he said: "It is I, Louis, don'tyou know me?" I stood silent. I could not have spoken for my life. Hewalked up to me and took the knife from my hand.

  "What is all this?" he inquired, in a gentle voice. "Are you ill?"

  "No," I replied. But I doubt if he heard me.

  "Come, come, old fellow," he cried, "take off that brass crown and toddleinto the study. Are you going to a masquerade? What's all this theatricaltinsel anyway?"

  I was glad he thought the crown was made of brass and paste, yet I didn'tlike him any the better for thinking so. I let him take it from my hand,knowing it was best to humour him. He tossed the splendid diadem in theair, and catching it, turned to me smiling.

  "It's dear at fifty cents," he said. "What's it for?"

  I did not answer, but took the circlet from his hands, and placing it inthe safe shut the massive steel door. The alarm ceased its infernal dinat once. He watched me curiously, but did not seem to notice the suddenceasing of the alarm. He did, however, speak of the safe as a biscuitbox. Fearing lest he might examine the combination I led the way into mystudy. Louis threw himself on the sofa and flicked at flies with hiseternal riding-whip. He wore his fatigue uniform with the braided jacketand jaunty cap, and I noticed that his riding-boots were all splashedwith red mud.

  "Where have you been?" I inquired.

  "Jumping mud creeks in Jersey," he said. "I haven't had time to changeyet; I was rather in a hurry to see you. Haven't you got a glass ofsomething? I'm dead tired; been in the saddle twenty-four hours."

  I gave him some brandy from my medicinal store, which he drank with agrimace.

  "Damned bad stuff," he observed. "I'll give you an address where theysell brandy that is brandy."

  "It's good enough for my needs," I said indifferently. "I use it to rubmy chest with." He stared and flicked at another fly.

  "See here, old fellow," he began, "I've got something to suggest to you.It's four years now that you've shut yourself up here like an owl, nevergoing anywhere, never taking any healthy exercise, never doing a damnthing but poring over those books up there on the mantelpiece."

  He glanced along the row of shelves. "Napoleon, Napoleon, Napoleon!" heread. "For heaven's sake, have you nothing but Napoleons there?"

  "I wish they were bound in gold," I said. "But wait, yes, there isanother book, _The King in Yellow_." I looked him steadily in theeye.

  "Have you never read it?" I asked.

  "I? No, thank God! I don't want to be driven crazy."

  I saw he regretted his speech as soon as he had uttered it. There is onlyone word which I loathe more than I do lunatic and that word is crazy.But I controlled myself and asked him why he thought _The King inYellow_ dangerous.

  "Oh, I don't know," he said, hastily. "I only remember the excitement itcreated and the denunciations from pulpit and Press. I believe the authorshot himself after bringing forth this monstrosity, didn't he?"

  "I understand he is still alive," I answered.

  "That's probably true," he muttered; "bullets couldn't kill a fiend likethat."

  "It is a book of great truths," I said.

  "Yes," he replied, "of 'truths' which send men frantic and blast theirlives. I don't care if the thing is, as they say, the very supremeessence of art. It's a crime to have written it, and I for one shallnever open its pages."

  "Is that what you have come to tell me?" I asked.

  "No," he said, "I came to tell you that I am going to be married."

  I believe for a moment my heart ceased to beat, but I kept my eyes on hisface.

  "Yes," he continued, smiling happily, "married to the sweetest girl onearth."

  "Constance Hawberk," I said mechanically.

  "How did you know?" he cried, astonished. "I didn't know it myself untilthat evening last April, when we strolled down to the embankment beforedinner."

  "When is it to be?" I asked.

  "It was to have been next September, but an hour ago a despatch cameordering our regiment to the Presidio, San Francisco. We leave at noonto-morrow. To-morrow," he repeated. "Just think, Hildred, to-morrow Ishall be the happiest fellow that ever drew breath in this jolly world,for Constance will go with me."

  I offered him my hand in congratulation, and he seized and shook it likethe good-natured fool he was--or pretended to be.

  "I am going to get my squadron as a wedding present," he rattled on."Captain and Mrs. Louis Castaigne, eh, Hildred?"

  Then he told me where it was to be and who were to be there, and made mepromise to come and be best man. I set my teeth and listened to hisboyish chatter without showing what I felt, but--

  I was getting to the limit of my endurance, and when he jumped up, and,switching his spurs till they jingled, said he must go, I did not detainhim.

  "There's one thing I want to ask of you," I said quietly.

  "Out with it, it's promised," he laughed.

  "I want you to meet me for a quarter of an hour's talk to-night."

  "Of course, if you wish," he said, somewhat puzzled. "Where?"

  "Anywhere, in the park there."

  "What time, Hildred?"

  "Midnight."

  "What in the name of--" he began, but checked himself and laughinglyassented. I watched him go down the stairs and hurry away, his sabrebanging at every stride. He turned into Bleecker Street, and I knew hewas going to see Constance. I gave him ten minutes to disappear and thenfollowed in his footsteps, taking with me the jewelled crown and thesilken robe embroidered with the Yellow Sign. When I turned into BleeckerStreet, and entered the doorway which bore the sign--

  MR. WILDE,REPAIRER OF REPUTATIONS.Third Bell.

  I saw old Hawberk moving about in his shop, and imagined I heardConstance's voice in the parlour; but I avoided them both and hurried upthe trembling stairways to Mr. Wilde's apartment. I knocked and enteredwithout ceremony. Mr. Wilde lay groaning on the floor, his face coveredwith blood, his clothes torn to shreds. Drops of blood were scatteredabout over the carpet, which had also been ripped and frayed in theevidently recent struggle.

  "It's that cursed cat," he said, ceasing his groans, and turning hiscolourless eyes to me; "she attacked me while I was asleep. I believe shewill kill me yet."

  This was too much, so I went into the kitchen, and, seizing a hatchetfrom the pantry, started to find
the infernal beast and settle her thenand there. My search was fruitless, and after a while I gave it up andcame back to find Mr. Wilde squatting on his high chair by the table. Hehad washed his face and changed his clothes. The great furrows which thecat's claws had ploughed up in his face he had filled with collodion, anda rag hid the wound in his throat. I told him I should kill the cat whenI came across her, but he only shook his head and turned to the openledger before him. He read name after name of the people who had come tohim in regard to their reputation, and the sums he had amassed werestartling.

  "I put on the screws now and then," he explained.

  "One day or other some of these people will assassinate you," I insisted.

  "Do you think so?" he said, rubbing his mutilated ears.

  It was useless to argue with him, so I took down the manuscript entitledImperial Dynasty of America, for the last time I should ever take it downin Mr. Wilde's study. I read it through, thrilling and trembling withpleasure. When I had finished Mr. Wilde took the manuscript and, turningto the dark passage which leads from his study to his bed-chamber,called out in a loud voice, "Vance." Then for the first time, I noticed aman crouching there in the shadow. How I had overlooked him during mysearch for the cat, I cannot imagine.

  "Vance, come in," cried Mr. Wilde.

  The figure rose and crept towards us, and I shall never forget the facethat he raised to mine, as the light from the window illuminated it.

  "Vance, this is Mr. Castaigne," said Mr. Wilde. Before he had finishedspeaking, the man threw himself on the ground before the table, cryingand grasping, "Oh, God! Oh, my God! Help me! Forgive me! Oh, Mr.Castaigne, keep that man away. You cannot, you cannot mean it! You aredifferent--save me! I am broken down--I was in a madhouse and now--whenall was coming right--when I had forgotten the King--the King in Yellowand--but I shall go mad again--I shall go mad--"

  His voice died into a choking rattle, for Mr. Wilde had leapt on him andhis right hand encircled the man's throat. When Vance fell in a heap onthe floor, Mr. Wilde clambered nimbly into his chair again, and rubbinghis mangled ears with the stump of his hand, turned to me and asked mefor the ledger. I reached it down from the shelf and he opened it. Aftera moment's searching among the beautifully written pages, he coughedcomplacently, and pointed to the name Vance.

  "Vance," he read aloud, "Osgood Oswald Vance." At the sound of his name,the man on the floor raised his head and turned a convulsed face to Mr.Wilde. His eyes were injected with blood, his lips tumefied. "CalledApril 28th," continued Mr. Wilde. "Occupation, cashier in the SeaforthNational Bank; has served a term of forgery at Sing Sing, from whence hewas transferred to the Asylum for the Criminal Insane. Pardoned by theGovernor of New York, and discharged from the Asylum, January 19, 1918.Reputation damaged at Sheepshead Bay. Rumours that he lives beyond hisincome. Reputation to be repaired at once. Retainer $1,500.

  "Note.--Has embezzled sums amounting to $30,000 since March 20, 1919,excellent family, and secured present position through uncle's influence.Father, President of Seaforth Bank."

  I looked at the man on the floor.

  "Get up, Vance," said Mr. Wilde in a gentle voice. Vance rose as ifhypnotized. "He will do as we suggest now," observed Mr. Wilde, andopening the manuscript, he read the entire history of the ImperialDynasty of America. Then in a kind and soothing murmur he ran over theimportant points with Vance, who stood like one stunned. His eyes were soblank and vacant that I imagined he had become half-witted, and remarkedit to Mr. Wilde who replied that it was of no consequence anyway. Verypatiently we pointed out to Vance what his share in the affair would be,and he seemed to understand after a while. Mr. Wilde explained themanuscript, using several volumes on Heraldry, to substantiate the resultof his researches. He mentioned the establishment of the Dynasty inCarcosa, the lakes which connected Hastur, Aldebaran and the mystery ofthe Hyades. He spoke of Cassilda and Camilla, and sounded the cloudydepths of Demhe, and the Lake of Hali. "The scolloped tatters of the Kingin Yellow must hide Yhtill forever," he muttered, but I do not believeVance heard him. Then by degrees he led Vance along the ramifications ofthe Imperial family, to Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom ofTruth, to Aldones, and then tossing aside his manuscript and notes, hebegan the wonderful story of the Last King. Fascinated and thrilled Iwatched him. He threw up his head, his long arms were stretched out in amagnificent gesture of pride and power, and his eyes blazed deep in theirsockets like two emeralds. Vance listened stupefied. As for me, when atlast Mr. Wilde had finished, and pointing to me, cried, "The cousin ofthe King!" my head swam with excitement.

  Controlling myself with a superhuman effort, I explained to Vance why Ialone was worthy of the crown and why my cousin must be exiled or die.I made him understand that my cousin must never marry, even afterrenouncing all his claims, and how that least of all he should marry thedaughter of the Marquis of Avonshire and bring England into the question.I showed him a list of thousands of names which Mr. Wilde had drawn up;every man whose name was there had received the Yellow Sign which noliving human being dared disregard. The city, the state, the whole land,were ready to rise and tremble before the Pallid Mask.

  The time had come, the people should know the son of Hastur, and thewhole world bow to the black stars which hang in the sky over Carcosa.

  Vance leaned on the table, his head buried in his hands. Mr. Wilde drewa rough sketch on the margin of yesterday's _Herald_ with a bit oflead pencil. It was a plan of Hawberk's rooms. Then he wrote out theorder and affixed the seal, and shaking like a palsied man I signed myfirst writ of execution with my name Hildred-Rex.

  Mr. Wilde clambered to the floor and unlocking the cabinet, took a longsquare box from the first shelf. This he brought to the table and opened.A new knife lay in the tissue paper inside and I picked it up and handedit to Vance, along with the order and the plan of Hawberk's apartment.Then Mr. Wilde told Vance he could go; and he went, shambling like anoutcast of the slums.

  I sat for a while watching the daylight fade behind the square tower ofthe Judson Memorial Church, and finally, gathering up the manuscript andnotes, took my hat and started for the door.

  Mr. Wilde watched me in silence. When I had stepped into the hall Ilooked back. Mr. Wilde's small eyes were still fixed on me. Behind him,the shadows gathered in the fading light. Then I closed the door behindme and went out into the darkening streets.

  I had eaten nothing since breakfast, but I was not hungry. A wretched,half-starved creature, who stood looking across the street at the LethalChamber, noticed me and came up to tell me a tale of misery. I gave himmoney, I don't know why, and he went away without thanking me. Anhour later another outcast approached and whined his story. I had a blankbit of paper in my pocket, on which was traced the Yellow Sign, and Ihanded it to him. He looked at it stupidly for a moment, and then with anuncertain glance at me, folded it with what seemed to me exaggerated careand placed it in his bosom.

  The electric lights were sparkling among the trees, and the new moonshone in the sky above the Lethal Chamber. It was tiresome waiting in thesquare; I wandered from the Marble Arch to the artillery stables and backagain to the lotos fountain. The flowers and grass exhaled a fragrancewhich troubled me. The jet of the fountain played in the moonlight, andthe musical splash of falling drops reminded me of the tinkle of chainedmail in Hawberk's shop. But it was not so fascinating, and the dullsparkle of the moonlight on the water brought no such sensations ofexquisite pleasure, as when the sunshine played over the polished steelof a corselet on Hawberk's knee. I watched the bats darting and turningabove the water plants in the fountain basin, but their rapid, jerkyflight set my nerves on edge, and I went away again to walk aimlessly toand fro among the trees.

  The artillery stables were dark, but in the cavalry barracks theofficers' windows were brilliantly lighted, and the sallyport wasconstantly filled with troopers in fatigue, carrying straw and harnessand baskets filled with tin dishes.

  Twice the mounted sentry at the gates was changed while I wand
ered up anddown the asphalt walk. I looked at my watch. It was nearly time. Thelights in the barracks went out one by one, the barred gate was closed,and every minute or two an officer passed in through the side wicket,leaving a rattle of accoutrements and a jingle of spurs on the night air.The square had become very silent. The last homeless loiterer had beendriven away by the grey-coated park policeman, the car tracks alongWooster Street were deserted, and the only sound which broke thestillness was the stamping of the sentry's horse and the ring of hissabre against the saddle pommel. In the barracks, the officers' quarterswere still lighted, and military servants passed and repassed before thebay windows. Twelve o'clock sounded from the new spire of St. FrancisXavier, and at the last stroke of the sad-toned bell a figure passedthrough the wicket beside the portcullis, returned the salute of thesentry, and crossing the street entered the square and advanced towardthe Benedick apartment house.

  "Louis," I called.

  The man pivoted on his spurred heels and came straight toward me.

  "Is that you, Hildred?"

  "Yes, you are on time."

  I took his offered hand, and we strolled toward the Lethal Chamber.

  He rattled on about his wedding and the graces of Constance, and theirfuture prospects, calling my attention to his captain's shoulder-straps,and the triple gold arabesque on his sleeve and fatigue cap. I believe Ilistened as much to the music of his spurs and sabre as I did to hisboyish babble, and at last we stood under the elms on the Fourth Streetcorner of the square opposite the Lethal Chamber. Then he laughed andasked me what I wanted with him. I motioned him to a seat on a benchunder the electric light, and sat down beside him. He looked at mecuriously, with that same searching glance which I hate and fear so indoctors. I felt the insult of his look, but he did not know it, and Icarefully concealed my feelings.

  "Well, old chap," he inquired, "what can I do for you?"

  I drew from my pocket the manuscript and notes of the Imperial Dynastyof America, and looking him in the eye said:

  "I will tell you. On your word as a soldier, promise me to read thismanuscript from beginning to end, without asking me a question. Promiseme to read these notes in the same way, and promise me to listen to whatI have to tell later."

  "I promise, if you wish it," he said pleasantly. "Give me the paper,Hildred."

  He began to read, raising his eyebrows with a puzzled, whimsical air,which made me tremble with suppressed anger. As he advanced his, eyebrowscontracted, and his lips seemed to form the word "rubbish."

  Then he looked slightly bored, but apparently for my sake read, with anattempt at interest, which presently ceased to be an effort He startedwhen in the closely written pages he came to his own name, and when hecame to mine he lowered the paper, and looked sharply at me for a momentBut he kept his word, and resumed his reading, and I let the half-formedquestion die on his lips unanswered. When he came to the end and read thesignature of Mr. Wilde, he folded the paper carefully and returned it tome. I handed him the notes, and he settled back, pushing his fatigue capup to his forehead, with a boyish gesture, which I remembered so well inschool. I watched his face as he read, and when he finished I took thenotes with the manuscript, and placed them in my pocket. Then I unfoldeda scroll marked with the Yellow Sign. He saw the sign, but he did notseem to recognize it, and I called his attention to it somewhat sharply.

  "Well," he said, "I see it. What is it?"

  "It is the Yellow Sign," I said angrily.

  "Oh, that's it, is it?" said Louis, in that flattering voice, whichDoctor Archer used to employ with me, and would probably have employedagain, had I not settled his affair for him.

  I kept my rage down and answered as steadily as possible, "Listen, youhave engaged your word?"

  "I am listening, old chap," he replied soothingly.

  I began to speak very calmly.

  "Dr. Archer, having by some means become possessed of the secret of theImperial Succession, attempted to deprive me of my right, alleging thatbecause of a fall from my horse four years ago, I had become mentallydeficient. He presumed to place me under restraint in his own house inhopes of either driving me insane or poisoning me. I have not forgottenit. I visited him last night and the interview was final."

  Louis turned quite pale, but did not move. I resumed triumphantly, "Thereare yet three people to be interviewed in the interests of Mr. Wilde andmyself. They are my cousin Louis, Mr. Hawberk, and his daughterConstance."

  Louis sprang to his feet and I arose also, and flung the paper markedwith the Yellow Sign to the ground.

  "Oh, I don't need that to tell you what I have to say," I cried, with alaugh of triumph. "You must renounce the crown to me, do you hear, to_me_."

  Louis looked at me with a startled air, but recovering himself saidkindly, "Of course I renounce the--what is it I must renounce?"

  "The crown," I said angrily.

  "Of course," he answered, "I renounce it. Come, old chap, I'll walk backto your rooms with you."

  "Don't try any of your doctor's tricks on me," I cried, trembling withfury. "Don't act as if you think I am insane."

  "What nonsense," he replied. "Come, it's getting late, Hildred."

  "No," I shouted, "you must listen. You cannot marry, I forbid it. Do youhear? I forbid it. You shall renounce the crown, and in reward I grantyou exile, but if you refuse you shall die."

  He tried to calm me, but I was roused at last, and drawing my long knifebarred his way.

  Then I told him how they would find Dr. Archer in the cellar with histhroat open, and I laughed in his face when I thought of Vance and hisknife, and the order signed by me.

  "Ah, you are the King," I cried, "but I shall be King. Who are you tokeep me from Empire over all the habitable earth! I was born the cousinof a king, but I shall be King!"

  Louis stood white and rigid before me. Suddenly a man came running upFourth Street, entered the gate of the Lethal Temple, traversed the pathto the bronze doors at full speed, and plunged into the death chamberwith the cry of one demented, and I laughed until I wept tears, for I hadrecognized Vance, and knew that Hawberk and his daughter were no longerin my way.

  "Go," I cried to Louis, "you have ceased to be a menace. You will nevermarry Constance now, and if you marry any one else in your exile, I willvisit you as I did my doctor last night. Mr. Wilde takes charge of youto-morrow." Then I turned and darted into South Fifth Avenue, and with acry of terror Louis dropped his belt and sabre and followed me like thewind. I heard him close behind me at the corner of Bleecker Street, and Idashed into the doorway under Hawberk's sign. He cried, "Halt, or Ifire!" but when he saw that I flew up the stairs leaving Hawberk's shopbelow, he left me, and I heard him hammering and shouting at their dooras though it were possible to arouse the dead.

  Mr. Wilde's door was open, and I entered crying, "It is done, it is done!Let the nations rise and look upon their King!" but I could not find Mr.Wilde, so I went to the cabinet and took the splendid diadem from itscase. Then I drew on the white silk robe, embroidered with the YellowSign, and placed the crown upon my head. At last I was King, King by myright in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of the Hyades, and mymind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I was King! The firstgrey pencillings of dawn would raise a tempest which would shake twohemispheres. Then as I stood, my every nerve pitched to the highesttension, faint with the joy and splendour of my thought, without, in thedark passage, a man groaned.

  I seized the tallow dip and sprang to the door. The cat passed me like ademon, and the tallow dip went out, but my long knife flew swifter thanshe, and I heard her screech, and I knew that my knife had found her. Fora moment I listened to her tumbling and thumping about in the darkness,and then when her frenzy ceased, I lighted a lamp and raised it over myhead. Mr. Wilde lay on the floor with his throat torn open. At first Ithought he was dead, but as I looked, a green sparkle came into hissunken eyes, his mutilated hand trembled, and then a spasm stretched hismouth from ear to ear. For a moment my terror and de
spair gave place tohope, but as I bent over him his eyeballs rolled clean around in hishead, and he died. Then while I stood, transfixed with rage and despair,seeing my crown, my empire, every hope and every ambition, my very life,lying prostrate there with the dead master, _they_ came, seized mefrom behind, and bound me until my veins stood out like cords, and myvoice failed with the paroxysms of my frenzied screams. But I stillraged, bleeding and infuriated among them, and more than one policemanfelt my sharp teeth. Then when I could no longer move they came nearer; Isaw old Hawberk, and behind him my cousin Louis' ghastly face, andfarther away, in the corner, a woman, Constance, weeping softly.

  "Ah! I see it now!" I shrieked. "You have seized the throne and theempire. Woe! woe to you who are crowned with the crown of the King inYellow!"

  [EDITOR'S NOTE.--Mr. Castaigne died yesterday in the Asylum for CriminalInsane.]

 

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