The Magician

by Somerset Maugham

  'Arthur what have you done?'

  'I've killed him,' he said hoarsely.

  'O God, what shall we do?'

  Arthur began to laugh aloud, hysterically, and in the darkness his hilarity was terrifying.

  'For God's sake let us have some light.'

  'I've found the matches,' said Dr Porhoлt.

  He seemed to awake suddenly from his long stupor. He struck one, and it would not light. He struck another, and Susie took off the globe and the chimney as he kindled the wick. Then he held up the lamp, and they saw Arthur looking at them. His face was ghastly. The sweat ran off his forehead in great beads, and his eyes were bloodshot. He trembled in every limb. Then Dr Porhoлt advanced with the lamp and held it forward. They looked down on the floor for the man who lay there dead. Susie gave a sudden cry of horror.

  There was no one there.

  Arthur stepped back in terrified surprise. There was no one in the room, living or dead, but the three friends. The ground sank under Susie's feet, she felt horribly ill, and she fainted. When she awoke, seeming difficultly to emerge from an eternal night, Arthur was holding down her head.

  'Bend down,' he said. 'Bend down.'

  All that had happened came back to her, and she burst into tears. Her self-control deserted her, and, clinging to him for protection, she sobbed as though her heart would break. She was shaking from head to foot. The strangeness of this last horror had overcome her, and she could have shrieked with fright.

  'It's all right,' he said. 'You need not be afraid.'

  'Oh, what does it mean?'

  'You must pluck up courage. We're going now to Skene.'

  She sprang to her feet, as though to get away from him; her heart beat wildly.

  'No, I can't; I'm frightened.'

  'We must see what it means. We have no time to lose, or the morning will be upon us before we get back.'

  Then she sought to prevent him.

  'Oh, for God's sake, don't go, Arthur. Something awful may await you there. Don't risk your life.'

  'There is no danger. I tell you the man is dead.'

  'If anything happened to you ...'

  She stopped, trying to restrain her sobs; she dared not go on. But he seemed to know what was in her mind.

  'I will take no risks, because of you. I know that whether I live or die is not a--matter of indifference to you.'

  She looked up and saw that his eyes were fixed upon her gravely. She reddened. A curious feeling came into her heart.

  'I will go with you wherever you choose,' she said humbly.

  'Come, then.'

  They stepped out into the night. And now, without rain, the storm had passed away, and the stars were shining. They walked quickly. Arthur went in front of them. Dr Porhoлt and Susie followed him, side by side, and they had to hasten their steps in order not to be left behind. It seemed to them that the horror of the night was passed, and there was a fragrancy in the air which was wonderfully refreshing. The sky was beautiful. And at last they came to Skene. Arthur led them again to the opening in the palisade, and he took Susie's hand. Presently they stood in the place from which a few days before they had seen the house. As then, it stood in massive blackness against the night and, as then, the attic windows shone out with brilliant lights. Susie started, for she had expected that the whole place would be in darkness.

  'There is no danger, I promise you,' said Arthur gently. 'We are going to find out the meaning of all this mystery.'

  He began to walk towards the house.

  'Have you a weapon of some sort?' asked the doctor.

  Arthur handed him a revolver.

  'Take this. It will reassure you, but you will have no need of it. I bought it the other day when--I had other plans.'

  Susie gave a little shudder. They reached the drive and walked to the great portico which adorned the facade of the house. Arthur tried the handle, but it would not open.

  'Will you wait here?' he said. 'I can get through one of the windows, and I will let you in.'

  He left them. They stood quietly there, with anxious hearts; they could not guess what they would see. They were afraid that something would happen to Arthur, and Susie regretted that she had not insisted on going with him. Suddenly she remembered that awful moment when the light of the lamp had been thrown where all expected to see a body, and there was nothing.

  'What do you think it meant?' she cried suddenly. 'What is the explanation?'

  'Perhaps we shall see now,' answered the doctor.

  Arthur still lingered, and she could not imagine what had become of him. All sorts of horrible fancies passed through her mind, and she dreaded she knew not what. At last they heard a footstep inside the house, and the door was opened.

  'I was convinced that nobody slept here, but I was obliged to make sure. I had some difficulty in getting in.'

  Susie hesitated to enter. She did not know what horrors awaited her, and the darkness was terrifying.

  'I cannot see,' she said.

  'I've brought a torch,' said Arthur.

  He pressed a button, and a narrow ray of bright light was cast upon the floor. Dr Porhoлt and Susie went in. Arthur carefully closed the door, and flashed the light of his torch all round them. They stood in a large hall, the floor of which was scattered with the skins of lions that Haddo on his celebrated expedition had killed in Africa. There were perhaps a dozen, and their number gave a wild, barbaric note. A great oak staircase led to the upper floors.

  'We must go through all the rooms,' said Arthur.

  He did not expect to find Haddo till they came to the lighted attics, but it seemed needful nevertheless to pass right through the house on their way. A flash of his torch had shown him that the walls of the hall were decorated with all manner of armour, ancient swords of Eastern handiwork, barbaric weapons from central Africa, savage implements of medieval warfare; and an idea came to him. He took down a huge battle-axe and swung it in his hand.

  'Now come.'

  Silently, holding their breath as though they feared to wake the dead, they went into the first room. They saw it difficultly with their scant light, since the thin shaft of brilliancy, emphasising acutely the surrounding darkness, revealed it only piece by piece. It was a large room, evidently unused, for the furniture was covered with holland, and there was a mustiness about it which suggested that the windows were seldom opened. As in many old houses, the rooms led not from a passage but into one another, and they walked through many till they came back into the hall. They had all a desolate, uninhabited air. Their sombreness was increased by the oak with which they were panelled. There was panelling in the hall too, and on the stairs that led broadly to the top of the house. As they ascended, Arthur stopped for one moment and passed his hand over the polished wood.

  'It would burn like tinder,' he said.

  They went through the rooms on the first floor, and they were as empty and as cheerless. Presently they came to that which had been Margaret's. In a bowl were dead flowers. Her brushes were still on the toilet table. But it was a gloomy chamber, with its dark oak, and, so comfortless that Susie shuddered. Arthur stood for a time and looked at it, but he said nothing. They found themselves again on the stairs and they went to the second storey. But here they seemed to be at the top of the house.

  'How does one get up to the attics?' said Arthur, looking about him with surprise.

  He paused for a while to think. Then he nodded his head.

  'There must be some steps leading out of one of the rooms.'

  They went on. And now the ceilings were much lower, with heavy beams, and there was no furniture at all. The emptiness seemed to make everything more terrifying. They felt that they were on the threshold of a great mystery, and Susie's heart began to beat fast. Arthur conducted his examination with the greatest method; he walked round each room carefully, looking for a door that might lead to a staircase; but there was no sign of one.

  'What will you do if you can't find the way up?' asked Su
sie.

  'I shall find the way up,' he answered.

  They came to the staircase once more and had discovered nothing. They looked at one another helplessly.

  'It's quite clear there is a way,' said Arthur, with impatience. 'There must be something in the nature of a hidden door somewhere or other.'

  He leaned against the balustrade and meditated. The light of his lantern threw a narrow ray upon the opposite wall.

  'I feel certain it must be in one of the rooms at the end of the house. That seems the most natural place to put a means of ascent to the attics.'

  They went back, and again he examined the panelling of a small room that had outside walls on three sides of it. It was the only room that did not lead into another.

  'It must be here,' he said.

  Presently he gave a little laugh, for he saw that a small door was concealed by the woodwork. He pressed it where he thought there might be a spring, and it flew open. Their torch showed them a narrow wooden staircase. They walked up and found themselves in front of a door. Arthur tried it, but it was locked. He smiled grimly.

  'Will you get back a little,' he said.

  He lifted his axe and swung it down upon the latch. The handle was shattered, but the lock did not yield. He shook his head. As he paused for a moment, an there was a complete silence, Susie distinctly heard a slight noise. She put her hand on Arthur's arm to call his attention to it, and with strained ears they listened. There was something alive on the other side of the door. They heard its curious sound: it was not that of a human voice, it was not the crying of an animal, it was extraordinary.

  It was the sort of gibber, hoarse and rapid, and it filled them with an icy terror because it was so weird and so unnatural.

  'Come away, Arthur,' said Susie. 'Come away.'

  'There's some living thing in there,' he answered.

  He did not know why the sound horrified him. The sweat broke out on his forehead.

  'Something awful will happen to us,' whispered Susie, shaking with uncontrollable fear.

  'The only thing is to break the door down.'

  The horrid gibbering was drowned by the noise he made. Quickly, without pausing, he began to hack at the oak door with all his might. In rapid succession his heavy blows rained down, and the sound echoed through the empty house. There was a crash, and the door swung back. They had been so long in almost total darkness that they were blinded for an instant by the dazzling light. And then instinctively they started back, for, as the door opened, a wave of heat came out upon them so that they could hardly breathe. The place was like an oven.

  They entered. It was lit by enormous lamps, the light of which was increased by reflectors, and warmed by a great furnace. They could not understand why so intense a heat was necessary. The narrow windows were closed. Dr Porhoлt caught sight of a thermometer and was astounded at the temperature it indicated. The room was used evidently as a laboratory. On broad tables were test-tubes, basins and baths of white porcelain, measuring-glasses, and utensils of all sorts; but the surprising thing was the great scale upon which everything was. Neither Arthur nor Dr Porhoлt had ever seen such gigantic measures nor such large test-tubes. There were rows of bottles, like those in the dispensary of a hospital, each containing great quantities of a different chemical. The three friends stood in silence. The emptiness of the room contrasted so oddly with its appearance of being in immediate use that it was uncanny. Susie felt that he who worked there was in the midst of his labours, and might return at any moment; he could have only gone for an instant into another chamber in order to see the progress of some experiment. It was quite silent. Whatever had made those vague, unearthly noises was hushed by their approach.

  The door was closed between this room and the next. Arthur opened it, and they found themselves in a long, low attic, ceiled with great rafters, as brilliantly lit and as hot as the first. Here too were broad tables laden with retorts, instruments for heating, huge test-tubes, and all manner of vessels. The furnace that warmed it gave a steady heat. Arthur's gaze travelled slowly from table to table, and he wondered what Haddo's experiments had really been. The air was heavy with an extraordinary odour: it was not musty, like that of the closed rooms through which they had passed, but singularly pungent, disagreeable and sickly. He asked himself what it could spring from. Then his eyes fell upon a huge receptacle that stood on the table nearest to the furnace. It was covered with a white cloth. He took it off. The vessel was about four feet high, round, and shaped somewhat like a washing tub, but it was made of glass more than an inch thick. In it a spherical mass, a little larger than a football, of a peculiar, livid colour. The surface was smooth, but rather coarsely grained, and over it ran a dense system of blood-vessels. It reminded the two medical men of those huge tumours which are preserved in spirit in hospital museums. Susie looked at it with an incomprehensible disgust. Suddenly she gave a cry.

  'Good God, it's moving!'

  Arthur put his hand on her arm quickly to quieten her and bent down with irresistible curiosity. They saw that it was a mass of flesh unlike that of any human being; and it pulsated regularly. The movement was quite distinct, up and down, like the delicate heaving of a woman's breast when she is asleep. Arthur touched the thing with one finger and it shrank slightly.

  'Its quite warm,' he said.

  He turned it over, and it remained in the position in which he had placed it, as if there were neither top nor bottom to it. But they could see now, irregularly placed on one side, a few short hairs. They were just like human hairs.

  'Is it alive?' whispered Susie, struck with horror and amazement.

  'Yes!'

  Arthur seemed fascinated. He could not take his eyes off the loathsome thing. He watched it slowly heave with even motion.

  'What can it mean?' he asked.

  He looked at Dr Porhoлt with pale startled face. A thought was coming to him, but a thought so unnatural, extravagant, and terrible that he pushed it from him with a movement of both hands, as though it were a material thing. Then all three turned around abruptly with a start, for they heard again the wild gibbering which had first shocked their ears. In the wonder of this revolting object they had forgotten all the rest. The sound seemed extraordinarily near, and Susie drew back instinctively, for it appeared to come from her very side.

  'There's nothing here,' said Arthur. 'It must be in the next room.'

  'Oh, Arthur, let us go,' cried Susie. 'I'm afraid to see what may be in store for us. It is nothing to us; and what we see may poison our sleep for ever.'

  She looked appealingly at Dr Porhoлt. He was white and anxious. The heat of that place had made the sweat break out on his forehead.

  'I have seen enough. I want to see no more,' he said.

  'Then you may go, both of you,' answered Arthur. 'I do not wish to force you to see anything. But I shall go on. Whatever it is, I wish to find out.'

  'But Haddo? Supposing he is there, waiting? Perhaps you are only walking into a trap that he has set for you.'

  'I am convinced that Haddo is dead.'

  Again that unintelligible jargon, unhuman and shrill, fell upon their ears, and Arthur stepped forward. Susie did not hesitate. She was prepared to follow him anywhere. He opened the door, and there was a sudden quiet. Whatever made those sounds was there. It was a larger room than any on the others and much higher, for it ran along the whole front of the house. The powerful lamps showed every corner of it at once, but, above, the beams of the open ceiling were dark with shadow. And here the nauseous odour, which had struck them before, was so overpowering that for a while they could not go in. It was indescribably foul. Even Arthur thought it would make him sick, and he looked at the windows to see if it was possible to open them; but it seemed they were hermetically closed. The extreme warmth made the air more overpowering. There were four furnaces here, and they were all alight. In order to give out more heat and to burn slowly, the fronts of them were open, and one could see that they were filled with glowin
g coke.

  The room was furnished no differently from the others, but to the various instruments for chemical operations on a large scale were added all manner of electrical appliances. Several books were lying about, and one had been left open face downwards on the edge of a table. But what immediately attracted their attention was a row of those large glass vessels like that which they had seen in the adjoining room. Each was covered with a white cloth. They hesitated a moment, for they knew that here they were face to face with the great enigma. At last Arthur pulled away the cloth from one. None of them spoke. They stared with astonished eyes. For here, too, was a strange mass of flesh, almost as large as a new-born child, but there was in it the beginnings of something ghastly human. It was shaped vaguely like an infant, but the legs were joined together so that it looked like a mummy rolled up in its coverings. There were neither feet nor knees. The trunk was formless, but there was a curious thickening on each side; it was as if a modeller had meant to make a figure with the arms loosely bent, but had left the work unfinished so that they were still one with the body. There was something that resembled a human head, covered with long golden hair, but it was horrible; it was an uncouth mass, without eyes or nose or mouth. The colour was a kind of sickly pink, and it was almost transparent. There was a very slight movement in it, rhythmical and slow. It was living too.