The Lurker at the Threshold: Posthumous Collaborations

by August Derleth

  Then for two days there were but commonplace entries, after which followed a guarded sentence which indicated that Alijah had discovered the Indian’s defection, and had punished him, but how, the boy had not chronicled. After seven further entries, there was another reference to the “forbidden place”; this time the boy and the Indian had been caught in a sudden snowstorm, and had lost their way. They stumbled about this way and that, the snow being very thick, and falling upon soft ground, which had opened to the late March sun, with the snow being blown into their eyes, and presently “we were come upon a place strange to me, but Quamis gave a great cry and strove to hustle me away, and I say that we had come to the brook which flowed about the isle of stones and the tower, but this time we had approached it from the far side. How we had come thither I did not know, for we had set out in the opposite direction, to the east, intending to walk over toward the Miskatonic River, unless it be that the snow so suddenly come upon us had confused us to so great a degree. The great haste and the seeming fear Quamis shewed, impelled me once again to inquire of him what caused him these qualms, but he only answered me as before, that my father ‘does not wish it’—which is to say, he does not want me in this area, though I have freedom to roam in whatever other parts of his land I choose, and may go even into Arkham, though I am forbidden to go in the direction of either Dunwich or Innsmouth, and must not pass time in the Indian village which is in the hills past Dunwich.”

  Thereafter there was no further reference to the tower, but instead there were certain other curious paragraphs. Three days after the entry concerning the sudden snowstorm, the boy recorded a quick thaw which “rid the earth of snow.” And that night, as he recorded on the following morning, “I was awak’d from my sleep by strange noises in the hills, as of great cries, and I started up and went first to the east window, and there did see nothing, and then to the south, and there likewise did see nothing; after which, summoning my courage, I crept from my room and crossed the hall and rapped on my father’s door, but he made no answer and I thinking he had not heard me, dared to open the door and go into his room, where I walked straight to his bed, but was much disturbed to find him not in it, and no sign to shew that he had that night been in it; and, chancing to look from the west window of his room I was made aware of a kind of blue or green glow that shone above the trees in the Hollow of the hills lying over to the west, whereat I was much given to wonder, for it was from this direction that the sounds I had heard seemed to come and still came—as it were, great screams, but in no human voice or even in the voice of any beast known to me; and it seemed to me, as I stood there at the partly-open window transfixed by fear and wonder, that other voices similar to these came from far off in the direction of Dunwich or Innsmouth and lay in the air like great echoes high up in the sky. After a little while these came to an end, and the glowing in the heavens ended, too, and I went back to bed; but this morning, when Quamis came, I asked him what it was had made such a noise in the night; whereupon he answered me that I had been dreaming and did not know whereof I spoke, and should say nothing of it to him, and abide by my own counsel; so I did not tell him what I had seen, for he seemed in truth sore troubled at my words, as if he feared my father would hear me even as I spoke. I was of a mind to bespeak my anxiety concerning my father’s safety, but by what Quamis said, I knew my father was in the house and like to be in his room, sleeping late, so I did not press this but made pretense of forgetting what I had heard and seen, even as Quamis said I must do, whereat Quamis felt easier in spirit and no longer seemed so distressed.”

  For fully a fortnight thereafter Laban’s entries concerned trivial matters, such as his studies and his reading. Then once more occurred a cryptic reference, brief and pointed. “The noises do seem to come from the west with singular persistence, but there is surely a crying of answer from the east by northeast, which is the direction of Dunwich, or the wild country around Dunwich.” Again, four days thereafter, the boy wrote that he had scarcely been put to bed, when, having arisen to watch the setting of the new moon, he saw his father outside the house. “He was accompanied by Quamis, and both carried something, but I could not make out what it was. In a short time they disappeared around the house, walking eastward, and I crossed to my father’s room to look further for them, but saw them not, though I heard my father’s voice rising in the wood.”

  Later that night, he had been awakened again by “great noises, as before, and I lay listening to them, and determined that sometimes they arose in a kind of chant, and sometimes in flat, terrible screamings which were not good to hear.”

  There were similar entries for some time thereafter, and in this fashion almost a year was accounted for.

  The next to final entry was extremely puzzling. All night long the boy had heard the “great noises” in the hills, and it seemed to him that all the world must hear these voices rising in the brooding darkness, and in the morning, “not seeing him, I inquired after Quamis, and was told that Quamis had ‘gone away’ and would not be back, and that, moreover, we too were going ere nightfall, taking very little baggage with us, and I was told to make myself ready. My father appeared to be in a dreadful fret to be off, though he did not say whither we were going; but I assumed it to be Arkham, or perhaps, at most far, Boston or Concord, but I did not question, and quickened myself to obey, not knowing what to take with me, but trying to select such articles as I would most need for a visit, such as clean breeches and the like. I was much puzzled by my father’s haste, and by his concern with the time; for he was very eager to leave the house not later than mid-afternoon, and said that he had ‘a deal to get done with’ before we would go; nonetheless, he found time to inquire of me several times whether I was ready, whether I had finished my packing, &c.”

  The final entry in the book, which was some pages from its end, had been made that afternoon. “My father says we are going to England. We shall sail across the ocean and visit relatives in that country. It is now mid-afternoon and my father is almost ready.” To this he had added, with an almost defiant flourish of the pen: “This is the daybook of Laban Billington, son of Alijah and Lavinia Billington, aet. 11 yrs. this day sennight.”

  Dewart closed the book in some perplexity, and yet with keen interest.

  Beyond the unseeing words the boy had put down there lay a major puzzle, of which, unfortunately, the boy had seen not enough to afford Dewart any semblance of a clue. In the scanty account, however, lay an explanation for the fact that the house had been left with books and papers not adequately cared for, the hasty departure of Alijah and his offspring leaving him no time to make preparations for his long visit. There was nothing, indeed, to show that Alijah meant to remain away; but it must have been in his mind that he might do so, however little he took with him. Dewart took up the book again and leafed rapidly through it, rereading portions here and there, and in this fashion coming upon a further cryptic entry which he had missed because it was lost in the midst of a paragraph setting forth in some detail a visit the child had made to Arkham in the company of the Indian, Quamis. “It puzzled me no little to discover that everywhere we were treated with great respect and marked fear; the tradesmen were subservient beyond what I had thought tradesmen ought to be, and even Quamis was not troubled as the Indians sometimes are in the streets of the towns.

  Once or twice I overheard beldames whispering to each other in hushed voices, and caught the name ‘Billington’ so uttered, in accents which filled me with concern that it should not be a good name, for all that these ladies would take it so in mistrust and doubt, which were spoken in accents too plain to be mistook, least of all by me, though it may seem, as Quamis said to me on the way home, that I am the victim of my imaginings and my own fears.”

  So, then. Old Billington was “feared” or disliked, and everyone connected with him in any way likewise. This additional discovery put Dewart almost into a fever of anticipation; his quest was so different from the usual genealogical adventure tha
t it delighted him; here was mystery, here was something deep, unfathomable, something out of the routine ken; and, fed by this taste of the mystery, Dewart was stirred and stimulated with the excitement of the chase.

  He turned eagerly to the oddments of papers and documents, but was soon conscious of sharp disappointment, for most of them appeared to be in reference to building materials and settlements therefor, and in some cases were statements for books which had been purchased by Alijah Billington from dealers in London, Paris, Prague, and Rome. He had reached almost his nadir of disappointment when he chanced upon a document penned in a crabbed hand, and only in part legible, which bore the arresting heading. Of Evill Sorceries done in New-England of Daemons in no Humane Shape. This appeared to have been copied from an account of which the original was not at hand, and it was plain, that not all the original had been copied, and not all the sentences copied were any longer legible. Yet. on the whole, the document was legible enough, and, with some considerable pains, Dewart could piece it out. He read it slowly, with much halting and doubt, and was fascinated by its contents to such an extent that he took up pen and paper and began laboriously to copy it. It began, by the evidence, in the middle of the original.

  “But, not to speak at too great Length upon so Horrid a matter, I will add onlie what is commonly reported concerning an Happening in New Dunnich, fifty years since, when Mr. Bradford was Governour. ’Tis said, one Richard Billington, being instructed partly by Evill Books, and partly by an antient Wonder-Worker amongst ye Indian Savages, so fell away from good Christian Practice that he not onlie lay’d claim to Immortality in ye flesh, but sett up in ye woods a great Ring of Stones, inside of which he say’d Prayers to ye Divell, Place of Dagon, Namely, and sung certain Rites of Magick abominable by Scripture. This being brought to ye Notice of ye Magistrates, he deny’d all Blasphemous Dealings; but not long after he privately shew’d great Fear about some Thing he had call’d out of ye Sky at Night. There were in that year seven slayings in ye woods near to Richard Billington’s Stones, those slain being crushed and half-melted in a fashion outside all experience. Upon Talk of a Tryall, Billington dropt out of Sight, nor was any clear Word of him ever after heard. Two months from then, by Night, there was heard a Band of Wampanaug Savages howling and singing in ye Woods; and it appeared they took down ye Ring of Stones and did much besides. For their head Man Misquamacus, that same antient Wonder-Worker of whom Billington had learnt some of his Sorceries, came shortly into ye town and told Mr. Bradford some strange Things: Namely, that Billington had done worse Evill than cou’d be well re-pair’d, and that he was no doubt eat up by what he had call’d out of ye Sky. That there was no Way to send back that Thing he had summon’d, so ye Wampanaug wise Man had caught and prison’d it where the Ring of Stones had been.

  “They had digg’d down three Ells deep and two across, and had Thither charmed ye Daemon with Spells that they knew; covering it over with” (here followed an illegible line) “carved with what they call’d ye Elder Sign. On this they” (again a few indistinct words) “digg’d from ye Pit. The old Savage affirm’d this place was on no Account to be disturb’d, lest ye Daemon come loose again which it wou’d if ye flatt Stone with ye Elder Sign shou’d get out of Place. On being ask’d what ye Daemon look’d like, Misquamacus covered his Face so that onlie ye Eyes look’d out, and then gave a very curious and Circumstantiall Relation, saying it was sometimes small and solid, like a great Toad ye Bigness of many Ground-Hogs, but sometimes big and cloudy, with no Shape, though with a Face which had Serpents grown from it.

  “It had ye Name Ossadagowab, which signifi’d” (this was rewritten to “signifys”) “ye child of Sadogowah, ye which is held to be a Frightfull Spirit spoke of by antients as come down from ye Stars and being formerly worshipt in Lands to ye North. Ye Wampanaugs and ye Nansets and Nahrigansets knew how to draw It out of ye Heavens but never did so because of ye exceeding great Evilness of It. They knew also how to catch and prison It, tho’ they cou’d not send It back whence It came. It was declar’d that ye old Tribes of Lamah, who dwelt under ye Great Bear and were antiently destroy’d for their Wickedness, knew how to manage It in all Ways. Many upstart Men pretended to a Knowledge of such and divers other Outer Secrets, but none in these Parts cou’d give any Proof of truly having ye aforesaid Knowledge. It was said by some that Ossadogowah often went back to ye Sky from choice without any sending, but that he cou’d not come back unless Summon’d.

  “This much ye antient Wizard Misquamacus told to Mr. Bradford, and ever after, a great Mound in ye Woods near ye Pond southwest of New Dunnich hath been straitly lett alone. Ye Tall Stone is these Twenty yrs. gone, but ye Mound is mark’d by ye Circumstance, that nothing, neither grass nor brush, will grow upon it. Grave men doubt that ye evill Billington was eat up as ye Savages believe, by what he call’d out of Heaven, notwithstanding certain Reports of ye idle, of his being since seen in divers places. Ye Wonder-Worker Misquamacus told that he mistrusted not but that Billington had been taken; he wou’d not say that he had been eat up by It, as others among ye Savages believ’d, but he affirm’d that Billington was no longer on this Earth, whereat God be prais’d.”

  Appended to this curious document was a note, evidently hastily scrawled:

  “See the Rev. Ward Phillips, Thau. Prod” Dewart rightly supposed that this reference was to a book on the shelves, and without delay carried his lamp over to the shelves and began to scrutinize the titles there. These were of a remarkable diversity, and most of them were utterly unfamiliar to him. There were Lully’s Ars Magna et Ultima. Fludd’s Clavis Alchimiae, the Liber Ivonis, Albertus Magnus, Artephous’ Key of Wisdom, the Comte d’Erlette’s Cultes des Goules, Ludvig Prinn’s De Vermis Mysteriis, and many other tomes hoary with age, having to do with philosophy, thaumaturgy, demonology, cabalistics, mathematics, and the like, among them several sets of Paracelsus and Hermes Trismegistus, which bore the marks of much usage. In his fascination with these titles, and his resolute determination to refrain from drawing them out one by one and examine them, it was some time before Dewart discovered the volume he sought, but eventually he came to it, pushed well into a corner at the far end of a shelf some distance removed from where he had been sitting.

  It was entitled Thaumaturgical Prodigies in the New-English Canaan, by the Rev. Ward Phillips, described on the title-page as “Pastor of the Second Church in Arkham in the Massachusetts-Bay.” The volume was clearly a reprint of an earlier book, for its date was Boston, 1801. It was by no means a slim volume, and Dewart guessed that the Rev. Ward Phillips, in common with many men of the cloth, had been unable to refrain from sermonizing while he developed his theses. There were no book marks of any kind, and, since the hour was drawing on toward midnight, Dewart did not look with enthusiasm upon the prospect of paging through a volume which was printed still with the long s and all the other typographical obsolescences of that time. Instead, he hit upon the reasonable assumption that, if Alijah Billington had used the volume to any great extent, he might well have cracked the spine at those places where he was wont to open it.

  He therefore carried the book and the lamp back to the table, and, depositing the lamp, he set the book flat upon its worn leather spine and allowed it to fall open, which, once he had shaken it a little, it did readily enough, at a place approximately two-thirds of the way through the book.

  It was printed in an imitation of black letter, and, while strange to the eye, was not as difficult to read as had been the document Dewart had just completed.

  Moreover, a scrawl along the page— Compare Nar. of Rich. Billington—indicated the desired passage beyond any question. It was not long, though episodic in nature, being preceded by nothing specifically pertinent, nor followed by anything pertaining, the Rev. Ward Phillips having taken the opportunity thereafter to indict a short sermon on the “evill of consorting with Daemons, Familiars, and such ilk.” The passage itself, however, was curiously disturbing.

  “But in respect of Gener
all Infamy, no Report more terrible hath come to Notice, than of what Goodwife Doten, Relict of John Doten of Duxbury in the Old Colonies, brought out of the Woods near Candlemas of 1787. She affirm’d, and her good neighbours likewise, that it had been borne to her, and took oath that she did not know by what manner it had come upon her, for it was neither Beast nor Man but like to a monstrous Bat with human face. It made no sound but look’d at all and sundry with baleful eyes. There were those who swore that it bore a frightful resemblance to the Face of one long dead, one Richard Bellingham or Bollinhan who is affirm’d to have vanished utterly after consort with Daemons in the country of New Dunnich. The horrible Beast-Man was examined by the Court of Azzizes and the witch then burnt by Order of the High-Sherif on the 5th of June in the year 1788.”

  Dewart reread this passage several times; it contained certain implications, though none came clearly. In any ordinary circumstances, those implications might have been missed; but, read immediately after what Alijah had labeled the “Billington Nar.,” the occurrence of the name “Richard Bellingham or Bollinhan” pointed unmistakably to the parallel with Richard Billington.

  Unfortunately, however much Dewart’s imagination was stimulated, he was unable to conjure up any kind of explanation for the riddle; he presumed that it might possibly be the suggestion of the Rev. Ward Phillips that “one Richard Bellingham,” supposing he were identical with Richard Billington, had not been destroyed—“Eat up by what he had call’d out of Heaven”—as popular superstition had believed, but had taken himself and his evil practises off into the deeper woods near Duxbury and there perpetuated himself in a secondary line which had ultimately spawned the horror of which the minister had written.