The Lurker at the Threshold: Posthumous Collaborations

by August Derleth

  On the other hand, the period in which Goodwife Doten had brought forth her changeling was less than a century after the notorious Witchcraft Trials, and it might well be presumed that the superstitions of that time still lingered among the credulous people, clerical as well as lay, who then lived in the country around Duxbury and “New Dunnich,” which, surely, must be the place now known as Dunwich, and thus in the neighborhood.

  Excited and further stimulated to increasing investigations, Dewart sought his bed and there lapsed at once into a sleep much troubled by curious dreams of strange creatures, serpentine and bat-like, which occupied his nighted hours in a fashion he had suspected they might. Yet he slept untroubled, save for one hour in the night when he awoke and lay for a few moments firm in the conviction that he was being watched from above, a fancy he had no trouble in dismissing for renewed sleep.

  In the morning, considerably exhilarated by his sleep, Ambrose Dewart set out to discover what he could of his ancestor, Alijah, from sources other than his own library. He drove into Arkham which, as an urban center, he never failed to compare with certain old villages and towns of England, taking much pleasure in the clustering gambrel roofs with the haunted gable rooms, the fanlighted doorways, and the narrow byways along the Miskatonic, leading from hidden streets into long-forgotten courtyards. He commenced his search at the Library of Miskatonic University, where he sought the carefully treasured volumes of the Arkham Advertiser and the Arkham Gazette of a century ago.

  The morning was bright and clear, and Dewart had all time at his disposal. In many respects, Dewart was a confirmed putterer; he entered into every quest with great zeal, though he seldom saw many of them through. He arranged himself in a well-lit corner, with a reading-table all to himself, and began to go leisurely through the newspapers of his great-great-grandfather’s day, which were filled with many curious items which caught his attention and were responsible for several divagations from his quest. He went through several months of papers before he came upon the name of his ancestor, and then it was by accident, for, while he had been seeking in the news-columns, he found it instead beneath a communication to the editor, which was curt and rude.

  “Sir: I am appriz’d of a notice in yr paper by one John Druven, Esq., of a sartain book by the Rev. Ward Phillips of Arkham, which speaks of the said book in terms of praise. I realize it is the custom to heap fine words on men of the cloath, but John Druven, Esq. cou’d have done the Rev. Ward Phillips a greater sarvice by point’g out that there are things in existence better left alone and kept from the common speach. Yr Serv’t, Alijah Billington.”

  Dewart immediately sought a reply to this communication, and found it in the paper of the following week.

  “Sir: ’Tis said the protestant, Alijah Billington, knows whereof he writes. He hath read the book, and I am oblig’d to him and am thus twice his obt. Serv’t. in the Name of God. Rev.

  Ward Phillips.”

  There was no further word from Alijah, though for many weeks’ issues thereafter, Dewart scrutinized the papers carefully for any communication. The Rev. Ward Phillips, for all the sermonizing in his book, was evidently of no less spirit than Alijah Billington. Thereafter, for some time, there was no mention of the name Billington, and it was not until several hours had gone by—and several years of both the Advertiser and the Gazette, also—that further notice of the name passed beneath Dewart’s eye. This time it was but a brief item of news.

  “The High-Sherif has serv’d notice on Alijah Billington in his home off the Aylesbury Pike to cease and desist from the business in which he is engag’d at night, and to abate in particular the noises thereof. Squire Billington has made application to be heard by the Court of the County in its session at Arkham next month.”

  Nothing further, then, until Alijah Billington appeared before the Magistrates.

  “The accus’d Alijah Billington depos’d that he was engag’d in no business at night, that he did not make noises or cause noises to be made, that he abided by the laws of the Commonwealth, and defy’d anyone to prove otherwise. He presented himself as the victim of superstitious persons who sought to cause him trouble, and who did not understand that he liv’d alone since the death of his lamented wife sev’n yrs. ago. He wou’d not permit the Indian, Quamis, his servant, to be call’d up for testimony. He several times call’d forth and demanded that his accuser be brought to face him or to come up and face him, but it was remark’d that the plaintiff was either reluctant or unwilling to so appear, and, none coming, the said Alijah Billington appear’d vindicated and was order’d to disregard the Notice serv’d on him by the High-Sherif.”

  It was plain that the “noises” referred to by the boy, Laban, in his daybook were no figment of his imagination. This account, however, again suggested that those who had lodged complaint against Alijah Billington were afraid of facing him; there was about this suggestion something more than the ordinary reluctance of trouble-makers to stand up before the object of their mischief. If the boy had heard the noises, and the plaintiff also; then manifestly others had also heard them; yet no one would so state, even to the extent of admitting to hearing noises, with imputing them to Alijah Billington. Plainly Billington was held in some awe, if not fear; he was a forthright, fearless man himself, who did not hesitate to be aggressive, particularly in his own defense. Dewart thought this commendable enough, but he was all the more titillated by the increasing mystery. He felt that the matter of the noises would grow in proportion, rather than be now lost to the papers, and so, indeed, it was.

  Scarcely a month later, there appeared in the Gazette an impertinent letter from one John Druven. presumably the same gentleman who had reviewed the Rev. Ward Phillips’ book, and who might understandably enough have taken sufficient umbrage at Alijah Billington’s curt criticism of his notice to interest himself in turn in Billington’s troubles with the High-Sheriff.

  “Sir: Having occasion to take a walking journey West and NorthWest of Arkham this day week I was caught by darkness in the woodland in the vicinity of the Aylesbury Pike, in that region known as Billington’s Wood, and while endeavouring to make my way from there, I became aware not long after darkness had fallen, of a most hideous din, the nature of which I find myself unable to explain, seem’g to come from the direction of the swamp beyond the house of Alijah Billington, Gent. I listened for some time to the aforementioned clamour, and was much distress’d thereby, for more than once it appear’d to bear a mark’d resemblance to the cries of some creature in pain or sickness, and had I known in which direction to pursue my way, I wou’d have mov’d toward it, so sensible was I of suffering and distress. These noises continu’d for a period of a half hour or a little more, and then subsid’d, after which all was still, and I went on my way. Yr Obt. Serv’t., John Druven.”

  Dewart fully expected that this would indeed stimulate his ancestor to a wrathful reply, but the weeks went by, and nothing appeared in the papers. Some opposition to Billington, however, appeared to be in the process of crystallization, for, in the absence of any word from Billington, the Rev. Ward Phillips appeared in the papers with an open letter in which he volunteered to lead a committee of investigation toward the site of the noises with the intention of discovering what made the noises and of putting an end to them forthwith.

  This was clearly calculated to draw Billington forth, and draw him it did. He ignored both the minister and the reviewer in his reply, which took the form of a public notice:

  “Any Person and all Persons discover’d to be Trespassing on the Property known as Billington’s Woods, or any adjoining Field or Pasture duly affix’d by Deed to the said Billington’s Woods, will be taken up as Trespassors and plac’d under Arrest for Triall.

  Alijah Billington has this Day appear’d before a Magistrate and deposed that his Property is duly Mark’d Against Trespassing, Hunting, Loitering, and all similar encroachments without Permission.”

  This brought forth an immediate goad from the Rev. W
ard Phillips, who wrote that it “wou’d seem our Neighbour, Alijah Billington, is unwilling that any investigation of the noises be made and desireth that they be contain’d within his ken alone.” He concluded his artful letter by coming out point-blank and asking Alijah Billington why he “fear’d” to have the noises and their source either investigated or ended.

  Alijah, however, was not to be put down by mere artfulness. He replied soon after that he had no intention of being put upon by “all and sundry”; he had no reason to believe that the self-appointed “Rev. Ward Phillips, or his protégé, John Druven, Gent.” were in any way qualified to conduct such an investigation; and then he lashed out at those who claimed to hear noises. “As for these Persons, surely it is not amiss to inquire of what they did out at this hour of the Night, when decent Persons are abed, or at least, within their own walls, and not gadding about in the Country under cover of Darkness, God knows after what pleasures or pursuits? They offer no evidence that they heard noises. The deponent, Druven, declaims loudly that he heard noises; but he makes no mention of any other accompanying him. There were those, too, scarce a hundred years ago, who fancied they heard voices and accus’d innocent men and women who were thereupon put to death most horribly as Warlocks and Witches; their evidence was no more. Is the deponent well enough appriz’d of country sounds in the night-time to distinguish between what he calls the ‘cries of some creature in pain’ and the bellowing of a bull, or the lowing of a cow in search of a lost calf, or sundry other sounds of similar Nature? It is better that he and his ilk mind their tongues, and let their ears not betray them, nor look upon that which is not meant by God to be seen.”

  This was an ambiguous letter, indeed. Billington had not previously called upon God to witness for him, and his letter, though in some respects pointed, yet had the marks of one written in haste, and without considered judgment. In short, Billington had let himself lie open to attack, and he must expect to be attacked, as he was, directly, by both the Rev. Ward Phillips, and John Druven.

  The minister wrote, almost as curtly as Billington had originally written, that he was “happy indeed, and I thank God, to observe that the man, Billington, doth recognize that there are divers Things which God did not mean man to see, and I hope onlie that the said Billington has himself not looked upon them.”

  John Druven, however, gibed at Alijah. “Forsooth, I did not know Neighbour Billington kept bulls and cows and calfs, with whose voices the deponent is familiar, hav’g been rais’d among them. Deponent sayeth further he heard no voice of bull or cow or calf in the vicinity of Billington’s Woods. Nor of goat nor sheep nor ass, nor any animal familiar to me. And noises there are, it cannot be deny’d, for I heard them, and others likewise.” And so on, in similar vein.

  It might have been expected that Billington would make some kind of reply; but he did not. Nothing further bearing his signature appeared, but three months later the Gazette printed a communication from the needling Druven that he had received an invitation to investigate Billington’s Woods at his leisure, either by himself, or in company, Billington requiring only that he be formally notified of Druven’s intention of so doing, so that he could issue orders that he be not molested as a Trespassor. Druven signified his intention of accepting Billington’s invitation all in good time.

  Then for some time, nothing further.

  And then a series of sinister paragraphs growing increasingly alarming as the weeks went by. The initial news-item was innocuous. It stated only that “John Druven, Gent., occasionally employ’d by this paper,” had failed to turn in his copy in time to appear in the paper this week, and would presumably have it prepared for next week’s issue. “Next week,” however, the Gazette carried a somewhat expanded paragraph saying that John Druven “could not be found. He was not in his rooms on River Street, and a search is now being made to discover his whereabouts.” The week after that, the Gazette disclosed that the missing copy Druven had promised to send in was to be a report on a visit he had made to Billington’s house and woods, in the company of the Rev. Ward Phillips and Deliverance Westripp. His companions could testify that they had returned from Billington’s. But that night, according to his landlady, Druven had set forth from the house. He had not responded to an inquiry as to whither he was going. Asked about their investigation of the noises in Billington’s Woods, the Rev. Phillips and Deliverance Westripp could remember nothing, save that their host had been very courteous to them, and had even served them a luncheon prepared by his servant, the Indian, Quamis. The High-Sheriff was now conducting an investigation into the disappearance of John Druven.

  In the fourth week, no further news of John Druven.

  Likewise in the fifth week.

  Silence thereafter, save at the expiration of three months, when it was admitted that the High-Sheriff was no longer carrying on the investigation into John Druven’s strange disappearance.

  No further word of Billington, either. The whole matter of the noises in Billington’s Woods seemed to have been dropped with decisive determination.

  Neither news columns nor communications column carried so much as Billington’s name.

  Six months after Druven’s disappearance, however, matters occurred with startling rapidity, and Dewart was keenly conscious of the restraint manifest in the papers’ handling of the events of that time, events which in his own time would have made exciting headlines. Within a period of three weeks four separate stories occupied the most important place in both the Gazette and the Advertiser.

  The first story concerned the discovery of a badly torn and mangled body on the ocean’s edge in the immediate vicinity of the seaport town of Innsmouth at the mouth of the Manuxet River. The body was identified as that of John Druven.

  “It is believ’d that Mr. Druven may have gone to sea and sustain’d injuries in the wreck of the vessel on which he travel’d. When found, he was some days dead.

  He was last known to have been in Arkham half a year ago, and no word of him has been had by anyone since that time. He appears to have undergone severe trialls in body, for his face is uncommon drawn, and many bones are broke.”

  The second account concerned Dewart’s ancestor, the ubiquitous Alijah Billington. It was made known that Billington and his son, Laban, had departed for a visit with relatives in England.

  A week later, the Indian, Quamis, who had served Alijah, “was desir’d for question’g by the High-Sherif, but cou’d not be found. Two bailiffs went to the house of Alijah Billington, but found no one there. The house being lock’d and seal’d, they cou’d not enter without warrant, which they had not.” Inquiry among the then Indian population remaining in the Dunwich country to the northwest of Arkham elicited no further information; indeed, the Indians knew nothing of Quamis and wished to know nothing, and two of them “deny’d that such a Person as Quamis either came from among their number or exist’d at all.”

  Finally, the High-Sheriff released a fragment of a letter which the late Druven had begun to write on the evening of his strange and inexplicable disappearance now approximately seven months before. It was addressed to the Rev. Ward Phillips, and bore the “mark of haste,” according to the account in the Gazette. The letter had been discovered by the landlady and given to the High-Sheriff, who admitted to its existence only now. The Gazette printed it.

  To the Rev. Ward Phillips

  Baptist Church

  French Hill, in Arkham

  My Esteem’d Friend,

  I have been come over with a feel’g of grave strangeness to such degree that it wou’d seem my memory of the events we witnessed this afternoon is impair’d to fad’g. I find it impossible to account for this, and in addition to it I am impell’d now to think more of our erstwhile host, the redoubtable Billington, as if I must go to him, and as if the wonder whether he might by some magick means have put something into the food of which we partook to impair memory were needless unkind. Do not think ill of me, my good Friend, but I am hard beset to recall
what it was we saw at the circle of stones in the wood, and with each passing instant, methinks memory grows more dim. . . .

  Here the letter ended; there was no more. The Gazette had printed it as found, nor did the editor presume to draw any conclusions therefrom. The High-Sheriff had said only that Alijah Billington would be asked questions on his return, and that was all.

  Subsequently, there was a notice of the interment of the unfortunate Druven, and after that, a letter from the Rev. Ward Phillips to say that members of his parish living in that outlying country near Billington’s Wood had reported that there were no longer noises to be heard in the night, now that Alijah Billington had taken his departure for foreign shores.

  There was no further mention of Billington in six months more of the papers, and at that point Dewart ceased to look. Despite the fascination which this research held for him, his eyes were tiring; moreover, the hour was now mid-afternoon; he had completely neglected his luncheon-hour, and, though he was not hungry, Dewart thought it best to desist from abusing his eyes. He was somewhat bewildered by the accounts he had read. In one sense, he was disappointed; he had expected to come upon something of greater clarity, but in everything he had read, there was a tenuous vagueness, an almost mystic haziness, even less tangible than those cryptic fragments found in the documents in what remained of Alijah Billington’s library. The newspaper reports presented little of a definite nature of themselves. Indeed, there was only the circumstantial support of the boy, Laban’s, daybook to prove that the accusers of Alijah Billington did actually hear the noises in Billington’s Wood at night. Apart from this, Billington was painted as at least half a rascal, irascible, forthright, almost bullying, and not afraid to face his detractors; he had emerged from every encounter rather well, though the Rev. Ward Phillips had made a telling point or two. There could be no doubt that the book to the review of which Alijah had taken such a rude exception was the Thaumaturgical Prodigies in the New-English Canaan; and, while there was nothing admissable as evidence in a modern court, there was a very strong coincidence to be noted in the fact that Alijah’s most irritating critic, John Druven, should have disappeared so strangely. Moreover, Druven’s unfinished letter posed certain startling questions. The inference was plain that Alijah had put something into the repast to make his unwelcome visitors—the “investigating committee”—forget what it was that they had seen; ergo, they had seen something to substantiate the veiled charges made by Druven and the Rev. Ward Phillips. There was something more inherent in that fragment of a letter—”as if I must go to him.” It was disturbing for Dewart to reflect upon this, for it suggested that by some means Billington had drawn the most acidulous of his critics back to him, and ultimately effected his death, after first bringing about his removal from the scene.