The vampire nemesis and other weird stories of the China coast

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The vampire nemesis and other weird stories of the China coast Page 4

by Dolly


  " I don't mind being the lamb of sacrifice if Mr. Rawdon cares to try his hand at occult influences."

  I have since thought that he accepted my offer with distinct eagerness. At any rate, he came hurriedly towards me as though he feared I might change my mind. I resented the imputation.

  " Where shall I sit ? " I asked listlessly.

  " Stand where you please. That will do quite well," he replied, standing before me.

  The rest of the company eagerly drew their chairs round us in a semicircle, and rustled them selves down into attitudes of comfort and rapt attention.

  And now occurred a curious phenomenon. I was standing with folded arms, still leaning against the mantelpiece, and gazing with feigned intentness into the eyes of Arnold Rawdon, determined not to let my imagination wander and so give it the chance of playing any tricks upon me, for I think I have said before that I believed in the possibility of the mesmeric sleep where the subject submitted himself unrestrained to the test.

  Rawdon was facing me with a clear intensity of gaze that I did not believe could have crept into the weak, blue eyes. Suddenly, with a quick, imperious gesture, he threw both arms high above my head, and allowed them slowly to drop again to the level of my waist, lightly touching my face with the finger ends as they passed. He repeated this three times, or possibly four times, still looking at me with the same intense fixity of gaze, when— I do not know exactly what happened, but the sensuous face, with its receding chin, seemed suddenly to blur and fade away, and in place of the eyes into which I had been staring I saw two puffs of blue-grey vapour shoot out, as if from a distance, toward me. The only thing to which I can liken it is the discharge of a gun when one is watching the firing of a naval salute. It was just two such puffs of smoke, but of a darker hue, that I saw leap out toward me, small and concentrated at first, but diffusing themselves as they approached, and I caught myself listening involuntarily for the reports; but only one came—one loud, long, prolonged crash, amid the reverberations of which the jets of vapour appeared to run together and unite as they swept toward me. I had an eerie sensation that I was not myself—that the real Me had wriggled out and was standing without my body looking hopelessly on. Then I remember I unfolded my arms and let them drop rigidly to my side. This was the last voluntary movement I remember making.

  The next instant the fog-bank had swept down upon me and enveloped me, and I was in utter darkness. A moment thus, then the grey mists began to recede again and heap themselves in a dense, impenetrable wall behind me. And on the other side of that partition I thought was the real spiritual Me, cut off from all communication with my bodily self. An indescribable sense of double consciousness possessed me. There was my old familiar self standing aside helpless and inert, and another Me that was surging through every fibre of my being, grasping the control of the machine.

  As the vapours ran back to nothingness, the room, to my astonished gaze, became quite clear. I could see the company of ladies and gentlemen sitting erect in their chairs, or leaning forward with expressions of awe writ large on their faces. The only one I could not see was Rawdon.

  IV.

  Presently something whispered to me that I was a boy again, and that we were spending our seaside holidays at dear old Hastings. I felt myself smiling derisively at the folly of the idea, for the carpet was at my feet, and not the sands of the seashore.

  Nevertheless, prompted by some resistless impulse, I sat plump down on the low fender and commenced vigorously to pull off my boots and socks.

  I saw the faces of the company broaden into one universal smile, and I cursed myself for my madness. Yet I was impelled to go on with the farce I loathed. I was helpless, urged relentlessly forward by some strange force that seemed to be directing the movements of my limbs. I looked back appealingly for aid to the other Me, but that bank of lurid fog hid me from myself. Then I sprang up with a shout of exultation such as only the exuberance of boyish spirits could give birth to, and ran to and fro on the carpet, kicking up with my bare feet imaginary foam.

  The spectators were convulsed with laughter, while I was torn between a desire to rail at them, an equal wish to curse myself, and a fear of losing the enjoyment of this glorious paddle through the waves. How long I continued successfully to play the imbecile to an admiring circle of friends I do not now distinctly recollect. I grew tired of the sport at last, and commenced slowly to draw on my discarded foot-gear, having first carefully dried my feet.

  Then I stood up once more, and as I did so the mists advanced, and I was again in darkness. It passed by me, however, hovering in front of the company, ever receding, until it divided and resolved itself into the two primary jets of smoke. These gradually shrank and concentrated, then disappeared altogether, and I found myself looking into the eyes of Arnold Rawdon, who was lying, white and still, on a neighbouring couch.

  They clapped their hands in delighted relief as they saw me look round once more with rational glance. Then our hostess turned to Rawdon, asking him if he felt unwell.

  " Oh, it's nothing! " he replied weakly. " Pray, don't mind me; I shall be all right in about five minutes. The mental strain has been rather great —that is all."

  My first feeling was one of fury at having thus been made a clown of for the amusement of the company. Then the humorous aspect of the case struck me, as I smiled to think how completely Rawdon had turned the tables upon me.

  Next my scientific interest was aroused as I looked back on my experience. Every little action, every thought, was as clear to me as if I had done and thought them in my normal state of mind.

  The only moments of oblivion had been during the transition periods, when the mists had closed in around me. And yet, conscious though I was of every act, and absurd as it seemed now to look back upon, I could at the time no more have helped doing what I had done, than I could have wished to repeat the edifying performance now I was my own master.

  To say that I was lost in wonder would but imperfectly convey my sentiments. Here was a new sensation with a vengeance. Of course, I told myself, there was some trick in it; but it was a trick full of interest, a trick worth knowing.

  Meanwhile the buzz of animated conversation arose again. Arnold Rawdon roused himself as someone poured him out a glass of port, which he swallowed eagerly, and soon was smiling blandly and making glibly untruthful answers to the eager queries of " How is it done? " He did not say a word to me, except to ask, " Feel any the worse for your experience ?" to which I answered with a curt " No, thanks."

  Afterwards a young lady present expressed a desire to be "put off, if Mr. Rawdon would promise not to make her do anything ridiculous."

  Rawdon readily gave his promise, and eager hands drew an unoccupied armchair into the middle of the room, into which she sank.

  She was a girl of highly-strung, imaginative temperament, very different from myself, who, they declare, am possessed of a cool judgment and iron resolution that would do credit to a Wellington. It seemed to me that she was half under the influence, with the strength of an excitable imagination, ere Rawdon commenced operations.

  I could not see his eyes, his back being towards me, as he seated himself opposite to her, but I noticed that the hair on the back of his head was standing on end. The man's whole frame seemed to dilate and grow larger, until there was a certain rugged grandeur, a bearing that was almost majestic, in his pose.

  I watched the proceedings narrowly, and, it must be confessed, still somewhat sceptically. At the first sweep of his arms, the girl's eyes dilated as if with sudden horror. At the second the iris contracted again suddenly until the pupil was narrowed to little more than a pin-head. He threw his arms up a third time and let them sweep slowly down, and as his arms swept down for the sixth time a violent shuddering shook the frame. As his hands left her face, down which they had travelled with almost caressing touch after the seventh pass, the eyelids snapped open again, and she was looking straight in front of her with the sightless stare of those that loo
k, seeing nothing.

  Amid a breathless stillness Rawdon leaned forward and looked into her eyes for a moment, then he said quietly—

  " She is under the influence."

  There was a long-drawn breath, as though of relief, from the spectators.

  Rawdon turned towards them.

  " What would you like her to do ? "

  A lady by my side beckoned to him, and he crossed the room and bent over her. She whispered—

  " Make her smell that bunch of violets in that vase over there, and then destroy them."

  The hypnotist glanced fiver to where, on a small table, stood a Sevres jar with a bunch of violets in it; then he straightened himself, and almost at the same instant the girl struggled up from her armchair and came hurriedly and unerringly across the room to where stood the vase.

  Without a moment's hesitation she picked up the bunch of violets and inhaled their fragrance, then she suddenly dashed them on the carpet, and with a swift access of fury stamped her little foot on them and ground them to shreds with her heel. Then she walked back to her chair, and sat down as impassive as she had been before.

  Rawdon now crossed to her side and laid his hand on her forehead, leaning over and saying something—what I could not hear—to her in a low voice. Another tremor passed over her, and her eyes closed for a second or two, then opened again, this time with their natural expression, though a trifle bewildered. We crowded eagerly round her.

  " Oh, everything seems so funny! " she exclaimed, gazing around.

  " Did you know what you were doing ? " someone asked.

  "Oh, yes! I knew perfectly well, only I could not help doing it." She turned and gazed ruefully at the crushed blossoms. "And I am so fond of violets, too!"

  There was no mistaking the genuine regret in her voice at her palpable act of vandalism, and I for one was convinced.

  Rawdon, meanwhile, was standing outside the circle, quietly turning over the leaves of an album, utterly unconcerned whether anyone disbelieved the evidence of their senses or not.

  I Took my way home that evening in a very mixed frame of mind indeed. Here was something worthy of investigation. A thing, a power, that I had long ago thrown aside in disgust as a fraud and the device of charlatans, had been demonstrated before my astonished eyes, nay, more, upon my own person, in a manner that could not fail to bring conviction to the most sceptical.

  I began already to regret having allowed my interest to abate just because a few dishonest spiritualists had pretended to make use of a power they did not possess. I had undoubtedly been too hasty in my condemnation of all for the fault of the few, and had thus wasted many valuable years that might have been devoted to research into this mystery of mysteries. Anyhow, I decided, as I reached my own door, what I had that night experienced and witnessed was convincing enough to determine me upon reverting to the subject once more.

  I was fortunate—ought I to say fortunate or cursed ?—in meeting Rawdon again within the week at a friend's with whom I was dining. It was, with the exception of myself, a bachelor party; and as we sat over our coffee and cigars the usual discussion was going forward as to what form of play the cards should take, while the evening slipped by in the arranging.

  But I advocated no cards at all. The truth is I was burning with a desire to investigate this wonderful new force, with the power of which I had but lately become cognizant. So I deftly led the conversation round to occult matters in general, and gradually narrowed the field of discussion down to hypnotism. From there it was but a step to announce that Rawdon understood something about it, and to offer myself as a candidate to be experimented on.

  I am positive, now I look back upon that moment, that I saw a sudden gleam of triumph flicker for a moment in the eyes of Rawdon. Yet he seemed reluctant to go through with the test, and required some coaxing, with not a little chaff from the others, about his fears of failure, before he would consent to operate. I was so interested that I did not care what act of folly I committed if only I could learn more of this. Besides, there were only five men present besides ourselves, and one does not mind so much making a fool of oneself for five minutes when the fair sex is not represented.

  I noted this time two or three points. One was that I sank under the influence of the force much sooner than I had done before. I explained this to myself on the hypothesis that I had surrendered myself more readily to it than I had done before. Another was that when I came to, Rawdon seemed to be no more affected by what he called the " mental strain" than he had been after he had made the girl destroy her favourite blossoms. Possibly this was because he had not attempted to make me do anything so flagrantly opposed to my own inclinations as had been that paddle on the imaginary seashore.

  But most remarkable of all was that after the mists had cleared—and, by the way, they swept down upon me with much greater rapidity and stayed but an instant—the faces of two gentlemen sitting opposite to me, to whom I had been introduced for the first time, seemed perfectly familiar. I thought I had known them for years and years, instead of two short hours. I remembered incidents in their lives that had occurred many years ago. I saw myself in their company in familiar surroundings, and I recalled, with peculiar vividness, scenes in the past of my own life with which hitherto I had been totally unacquainted. It was literally recalling with wonderful detail incidents that until now I never knew had happened to me.

  All this puzzled me exceedingly, until some time afterwards I discovered that both men were old friends of Arnold Rawdon. Then a ray of light seemed to fall athwart my mind, and I think I understood.

  I told my darling Ethel nothing of these interesting experiments at first, but the subject had such a deep fascination for me that, in order to be able to carry out some lesser investigations at home, I had to take her partially into my confidence. She understood but little of the matter, but what interested me interested her, and she did her best to understand the explanations I vouchsafed. For four nights running I tried, with remarkable success, Mesmer's experiment with the black spot on a white ground. I had my mosquito net lowered until the top was within two feet of my head. To this I affixed a small circle of black velvet, and having first asked Ethel to shake me at a given hour and try if she could wake me, I kept my eyes staring unblinkingly at the black spot.

  " I shook you," she said afterwards, " I screamed into your ear, and rubbed your face with a rough towel. I even," with a mischievous twinkle, "pinched you horribly hard, but not the tiniest bit of notice would you take until early morning.

  The next night, to my satisfaction, I went off in less than five minutes, and the two following ones almost instantaneously.

  But the trances were mere spells of utter oblivion and not nearly so interesting as the experiments I had conducted with Rawdon. Fool! Blind fool that I was! Little did I dream that in thus tampering with my mind I was making the hellish task of Arnold Rawdon easier of accomplishment ! And yet there came to me at times a dim, fleeting suspicion that I was not doing right. A thought woven on the fragile gossamer filaments of fancy that dissolved away ere it could shape itself into words, yet in its going left me filled with a vague disquiet.

  VI.

  It was perhaps this disquietude that prompted me to call one evening after dinner on an old friend of mine—Fred Armstrong. It had been my custom, in my bachelor days, to drop in on him for a smoke and a game of chess, and to discuss the news of the day, touching sometimes on deeper topics. Armstrong belonged to the Idealistic school, and was an ardent follower of Berkley and Hume. He retained, however, sufficient belief in the reality of the existence of matter to be wishful of accumulating a pile of it in the form of gold, in which laudable endeavour he had been by no means unsuccessful. Withal Armstrong was a deeplyread man, and a man who never turned over the page before he had a thorough mastery of its contents. He received me with open avowals of delight.

  "Just the man above all others I should have wished to see ! " he remarked gaily. " I am so glad the wife has c
onsented to spare you for a few hours to lighten the dreary evening of a lone bachelor. I am fairly dying for a game of chess."

  As he spoke he was busily pulling the pieces from a neighbouring drawer and drawing up an inlaid table to the fire.

  I expressed myself in no mood for chess just then; but he would hear of no denial, so we sat down to our game.

  I think I played about the most idiotic game it has been my lot to play since first I learned the moves. I advanced my queen into the most absurdly unprotected positions, until Armstrong had frequently to caution me of her danger. I moved the king into the check fully a dozen times, and scattered my pieces over the board without method or reason. At last, on the first pretence of a serious attack, for the opportunity of which Armstrong had not long to wait, I resigned the game and pushed the board fretfully aside. I was in no fit mood for chess; I found it impossible to concentrate on the pieces the thoughts that were so busy elsewhere.

  We lit our pipes and smoked for awhile in silence; then, " Armstrong, do you believe in hypnotism ? " I asked.

  He looked at me in silence. I repeated my question.

  " Why, of course I do. It is one of the forces of nature, just as much as gravity or electricity."

  " And yet," I remonstrated, " science takes no cognisance of it."

  " Science," quoted Armstrong sententiously, "like the law, is an ass. She takes cognisance of nothing until it is literally forced upon her attention. Two hundred years ago science took no heed of gravity until Isaac Newton infallibly demonstrated its existence. Then it was all eager investigation, after they had first had their laugh at the so-called ' mad philosopher.' There is no deadlier enemy to true research than this precious science."

 

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