The Slayer of Souls

by Robert W. Chambers

  CHAPTER VI

  IN BATTLE

  Cleves went back into the apartment; he noticed that Miss Norne's doorwas ajar.

  To get to his own room he had to pass that way; and he saw her, seatedbefore the mirror, partly undressed, her dark, lustrous hair beingcombed out and twisted up for the night.

  Whether this carelessness was born of innocence or of indifferencemattered little; he suddenly realised that these conditions wouldn't do.And his first feeling was of anger.

  "If you'll put on your robe and slippers," he said in an unpleasantvoice, "I'd like to talk to you for a few moments."

  She turned her head on its charming neck and looked around and up at himover one naked shoulder.

  "Shall I come into your room?" she inquired.

  "No!... when you've got some clothes on, call me."

  "I'm quite ready now," she said calmly, and drew the Chinese slippersover her bare feet and passed a silken loop over the silver bell buttonson her right shoulder. Then, undisturbed, she continued to twist up herhair, following his movements in the mirror with unconcerned blue eyes.

  He entered and seated himself, the impatient expression still creasinghis forehead and altering his rather agreeable features.

  "Miss Norne," he said, "you're absolutely convinced that these peoplemean to do you harm. Isn't that true?"

  "Of course," she said simply.

  "Then, until we get them, you're running a serious risk. In fact, youlive in hourly peril. That is your belief, isn't it?"

  She put the last peg into her thick, curly hair, lowered her arms,turned, dropped one knee over the other, and let her candid gaze rest onhim in silence.

  "What I mean to explain," he said coldly, "is that as long as I inducedyou to go into this affair I'm responsible for you. If I let you out ofmy sight here in New York and if anything happens to you, I'll be asguilty as the dirty beast who takes your life. What is your opinion?It's up to me to stand by you now, isn't it?"

  "I had rather be near you--for a while," she said timidly.

  "Certainly. But, Miss Norne, our living here together, in myapartment--or living together anywhere else--is never going to beunderstood by other people. You know that, don't you?"

  After a silence, still looking at him out of clear unembarrassed eyes:

  "I know.... But ... I don't want to die."

  "I told you," he said sharply, "they'll have to kill me first. So that'sall right. But how about what I am doing to your reputation?"

  "I understand."

  "I suppose you do. You're very young. Once out of this blooming mess,you will have all your life before you. But if I kill your reputationfor you while saving your body from death, you'll find no happiness inliving. Do you realise that?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, then? Have you any solution for this problem that confronts you?"

  "No."

  "Haven't you any idea to suggest?"

  "I don't--don't want to die," she repeated in an unsteady voice.

  He bit his lip; and after a moment's scowling silence under themerciless scrutiny of her eyes: "Then you had better marry me," he said.

  It was some time before she spoke. For a second or two he sustained thesearching quality of her gaze, but it became unendurable.

  Presently she said: "I don't ask it of you. I can shoulder my ownburdens." And he remembered what he had just said to Recklow.

  "You've shouldered more than your share," he blurted out. "You aredeliberately risking death to serve your country. I enlisted you. Theleast I can do is to say my affections are not engaged; so naturally theidea of--of marrying anybody never entered my head."

  "Then you do not care for anybody else?"

  Her candour amazed and disconcerted him.

  "No." He looked at her, curiously. "Do you care for anybody in thatway?"

  A light blush tinted her face. She said gravely: "If we really are goingto marry each other I had better tell you that I did care for PrinceSanang."

  "What!" he cried, astounded.

  "It seems incredible, doesn't it? Yet it is quite true. I fought him; Ifought myself; I stood guard over my mind and senses there in thetemple; I knew what he was and I detested him and I mocked him there inthe temple.... And I loved him."

  "Sanang!" he repeated, not only amazed but also oddly incensed at thenaive confession.

  "Yes, Sanang.... If we are to marry, I thought I ought to tell you.Don't you think so?"

  "Certainly," he replied in an absent-minded way, his mind still graspingat the thing. Then, looking up: "Do you still care for this fellow?"

  She shook her head.

  "Are you perfectly sure, Miss Norne?"

  "As sure as that I am alive when I awake from a nightmare. My hatred forSanang is very bitter," she added frankly, "and yet somehow it is not mywish to see him harmed."

  "You still care for him a little?"

  "Oh, no. But--can't you understand that it is not in me to wish himharm?... No girl feels that way--once having cared. To becomeindifferent to a familiar thing is perhaps natural; but to desire toharm it is not in my character."

  "You have plenty of character," he said, staring; at her.

  "You don't think so. Do you?"

  "Why not?"

  "Because of what I said to you on the roof-garden that night. It wasshameful, wasn't it?"

  "You behaved like many a thoroughbred," he returned bluntly; "you werescared, bewildered, ready to bolt to any shelter offered."

  "It's quite true I didn't know what to do to keep alive. And that wasall that interested me--to keep on living--having lost my soul and beingafraid to die and find myself in hell with Erlik."

  He said: "Isn't that absurd notion out of your head yet?"

  "I don't know ... I can't suddenly believe myself safe after all thoseyears. It is not easy to root out what was planted in childhood and whatgrew to be part of one during the tender and formative period.... Youcan't understand, Mr. Cleves--you can't ever feel or visualise whatbecame my daily life in a region which was half paradise and halfhell----"

  She bent her head and took her face between her fingers, and sat so,brooding.

  After a little while: "Well," he said, "there's only one way to managethis affair--if you are willing, Miss Norne."

  She merely lifted her eyes.

  "I think," he said, "there's only that one way out of it. But youunderstand"--he turned pink--"it will be quite all right--yourliberty--privacy--I shan't bother you--annoy----"

  She merely looked at him.

  "After this Bolshevistic flurry is settled--in a year or two--orthree--then you can very easily get your freedom; and you'll have alllife before you" ... he rose: "--and a jolly good friend in me--a goodcomrade, Miss Norne. And that means you can count on me when you go intobusiness--or whatever you decide to do."

  She also had risen, standing slim and calm in her exquisite Chineserobe, the sleeves of which covered her finger tips.

  "Are you going to marry me?" she asked.

  "If you'll let me."

  "Yes--I will ... it's so generous and considerate of you. I--I don't askit; I really don't----"

  "But _I_ do."

  "--And I never dreamed of such a thing."

  He forced a smile. "Nor I. It's rather a crazy thing to do. But I knowof no saner alternative.... So we had better get our licenseto-morrow.... And that settles it."

  He turned to go; and, on her threshold, his feet caught in something onthe floor and he stumbled, trying to free his feet from a roll of softwhite cloth lying there on the carpet. And when he picked it up, itunrolled, and a knife fell out of the folds of cloth and struck hisfoot.

  Still perplexed, not comprehending, he stooped to recover the knife.Then, straightening up, he found himself looking into the colourlessface of Tressa Norne.

  "What's all this?" he asked--"this sheet and knife here on the flooroutside your door?"

  She answered with difficulty: "They have sent you your shroud, I think."

  "
Are not those things yours? Were they not already here in yourbaggage?" he demanded incredulously. Then, realising that they had notbeen there on the door-sill when he entered her room a few momentssince, a rough chill passed over him--the icy caress of fear.

  "Where did that thing come from?" he said hoarsely. "How could it gethere when my door is locked and bolted? Unless there's somebody hiddenhere!"

  Hot anger suddenly flooded him; he drew his pistol and sprang into thepassageway.

  "What the devil is all this!" he repeated furiously, flinging open hisbedroom door and switching on the light.

  He searched his room in a rage, went on and searched the dining-room,smoking-room, and kitchen, and every clothes-press and closet, alwaysaware of Tressa's presence close behind him. And when there remained notiniest nook or cranny in the place unsearched, he stood in the centreof the carpet glaring at the locked and bolted door.

  He heard her say under her breath: "This is going to be a sleeplessnight. And a dangerous one." And, turning to stare at her, saw no fearin her face, only excitement.

  He still held clutched in his left hand the sheet and the knife. Now hethrust these toward her.

  "What's this damned foolery, anyway?" he demanded harshly. She took theknife with a slight shudder. "There is something engraved on the silverhilt," she said.

  He bent over her shoulder.

  "Eighur," she added calmly, "not Arabic. The Mongols had no writtencharacters of their own."

  She bent closer, studying the inscription. After a moment, stillstudying the Eighur characters, she rested her left hand on hisshoulder--an impulsive, unstudied movement that might have meant eitherconfidence or protection.

  "Look," she said, "it is not addressed to you after all, but to asymbol--a series of numbers, 53-6-26."

  "That is my designation in the Federal Service," he said, sharply.

  "Oh!" she nodded slowly. "Then this is what is written in theMongol-Yezidee dialect, traced out in Eighur characters: 'To 53-6-26! Byone of the Eight Assassins the Slayer of Souls sends this shroud andthis knife from Mount Alamout. Such a blade shall divide your heart.This sheet is for your corpse.'"

  After a grim silence he flung the soft white cloth on the floor.

  "There's no use my pretending I'm not surprised and worried," he said;"I don't know how that cloth got here. Do you?"

  "It was sent."

  "How?"

  She shook her head and gave him a grave, confused look.

  "There are ways. You could not understand.... This is going to be asleepless night for us."

  "You can go to bed, Tressa. I'll sit up and read and keep an eye on thatdoor."

  "I can't let you remain alone here. I'm afraid to do that."

  He gave a laugh, not quite pleasant, as he suddenly comprehended thatthe girl now considered their _roles_ to be reversed.

  "Are _you_ planning to sit up in order to protect _me_?" he asked,grimly amused.

  "Do you mind?"

  "Why, you blessed little thing, I can take care of myself. How funny ofyou, when I am trying to plan how best to look out for _you_!"

  But her face remained pale and concerned, and she rested her left handmore firmly on his shoulder.

  "I wish to remain awake with you," she said. "Because I myself don'tfully understand this"--she looked at the knife in her palm, then downat the shroud. "It is going to be a strange night for us," she sighed."Let us sit together here on the lounge where I can face _that bolteddoor_. And if you are willing, I am going to turn out the lights----"She suddenly bent forward and switched them off--"because I must keep mymind on guard."

  "Why do you do that?" he asked, "you can't see the door, now."

  "Let me help you in my own way," she whispered. "I--I am very deeplydisturbed, and very, very angry. I do not understand this new menace.Yezidee that I am, I do not understand what kind of danger threatens youthrough your loyalty to me."

  She drew him forward, and he opened his mouth to remonstrate, to laugh;but as he turned, his foot touched the shroud, and an uncontrollableshiver passed over him.

  They went close together, across the dim room to the lounge, and seatedthemselves. Enough light from Madison Avenue made objects in the roombarely discernible.

  * * * * *

  Sounds from the street below became rarer as the hours wore away. Theiron jar of trams, the rattle of vehicles, the harsh warning of taxicabsbroke the stillness at longer and longer intervals, until, save only forthat immense and ceaseless vibration of the monstrous iron city underthe foggy stars, scarcely a sound stirred the silence.

  The half-hour had struck long ago on the bell of the little clock. Nowthe clear bell sounded three times.

  Cleves stirred on the lounge beside Tressa. Again and again he hadthought that she was asleep for her head had fallen back against thecushions, and she lay very still. But always, when he leaned nearer topeer down at her, he saw her eyes open, and fixed intently upon thebolted door.

  His pistol, which still rested on his knee, was pointed across the room,toward the door. Once he reminded her in a whisper that she was unarmedand that it might be as well for her to go and get her pistol. But shemurmured that she was sufficiently equipped; and, in spite of himself,he shivered as he glanced down at her frail and empty hands.

  It was some time between three and half-past, he judged, when a suddenmovement of the girl brought him upright on his seat, quivering withexcitement.

  "Mr. Cleves!"

  "Yes?"

  "The Sorcerers!"

  "Where? Outside the door?"

  "Oh, my God," she murmured, "_they are after my mind again_! Theirfingers are groping to seize my brain and get possession of it!"

  "What!" he stammered, horrified.

  "Here--in the dark," she whispered--"and I feel their fingerscaressing me--searching--moving stealthily to surprise and grasp mythoughts.... I know what they are doing.... I am resisting.... I amfighting--fighting!"

  She sat bolt upright with clenched hands at her breast, her face palelyaglow in the dimness as though illumined by some vivid inward light--or,as he thought--from the azure blaze in her wide-open eyes.

  "Is--is this what you call--what you believe to be magic?" he askedunsteadily. "Is there some hostile psychic influence threatening you?"

  "Yes. I'm resisting. I'm fighting--fighting. They shall not trap me.They shall not harm you!... I know how to defend myself and you!... And_you_!"

  Suddenly she flung her left arm around his neck and the delicateclenched hand brushed his cheek.

  "They shall not have you," she breathed. "I am fighting. I am holding myown. There are eight of them--eight Assassins! My mind is in battle withtheirs--fiercely in battle.... I hold my own! I am armed and waiting!"

  With a convulsive movement she drew his head closer to her shoulder."Eight of them!" she whispered,--"trying to entrap and seize my brain.But my thoughts are free! My mind is defending you--you, here in myarms!"

  After a breathless silence: "Look out!" she whispered with terribleenergy; "they are after _your_ mind at last. Fix your thoughts on me!Keep your mind clear of their net! Don't let their ghostly fingers touchit. Look at me!" She drew him closer. "Look at _me_! Believe in _me_! Ican resist. I can defend you. Does your head feel confused?"

  "Yes--numb."

  "_Don't sleep!_ Don't close your eyes! Keep them open and look at me!"

  "I can scarcely see you----"

  "You _must_ see me!"

  "My eyes are heavy," he said drowsily. "I can't see you, Tressa----"

  "Wake! Look at me! Keep your mind clear. Oh, I beg you--I beg you!They're after our minds and souls, I tell you! Oh, believe in me," shebeseeched him in an agonised whisper--"Can't you believe in me for amoment,--as if you loved me!"

  His heavy lids lifted and he tried to look at her.

  "Can you see me? _Can_ you?"

  He muttered something in a confused voice.

  "Victor!"

  At the sound of his ow
n name, he opened his eyes again and tried tostraighten up, but his pistol fell to the carpet.

  "Victor!" she gasped, "clear your mind in the name of God!"

  "I can not----"

  "I tell you hell is opening beyond that door!--outside your bolted door,there! Can't you believe me! Can't you hear me! Oh, what will hold youif the love of God can not!" she burst out. "I'd crucify myself for youif you'd look at me--if you'd only fight hard enough to believe inme--as though you loved me!"

  His eyes unclosed but he sank back against her shoulder.

  "Victor!" she cried in a terrible voice.

  There was no answer.

  "If the love of God could only hold you for a moment more!"--shestammered with her mouth against his ear, "just for a moment, Victor!Can't you hear me?"

  "Yes--very far away."

  "Fight for me! Try to care for me! Don't let Sanang have me!"

  He shuddered in her arms, reached out and resting heavily on hershoulder, staggered to his feet and stood swaying like a drunken man.

  "No, by God," he said thickly, "Sanang shall not touch you."

  The girl was on her feet now, holding him upright with an arm around hisshoulders.

  "They can't--can't harm us together," she stammered. "Hark! Listen! Canyou hear? Oh, can you hear?"

  "Give me my pistol," he tried to say, but his tongue seemed twisted."No--by God--Sanang shall not touch you."

  She stooped lithely and recovered the weapon. "Hush," she said close tohis burning face. "Listen. Our minds are safe! I can hear somebody'ssoul bidding its body farewell!"

  White-lipped she burst out laughing, kicked the shroud out of the way,thrust the pistol into his right hand, went forward, forcing him alongbeside her, and drew the bolts from the door.

  Suddenly he spoke distinctly:

  "Is there anything outside that door on the landing?"

  "Yes.... I don't know what. Are you ready?" She laid her hand on lockand knob.

  He nodded. At the same instant she jerked open the door; and a hunchbackwho had been picking at the lock fell headlong into the room, his pistolexploding on the carpet in a streak of fire.

  It was a horrible struggle to secure the powerful misshapen creature,for he clawed and squealed and bounced about on the floor, strikingblindly with ape-like arms. But at last Cleves held him down, throttledand twitching, and Tressa ripped strips from the shroud to truss up thewrithing thing.

  Then Cleves switched on the light.

  "Why--why--you rat!" he exclaimed in hysterical relief at seeing aliving man whom he recognised there at his feet. "What are you doinghere?"

  The hunchback's red eyes blazed up at him from the floor.

  "Who--who is he?" faltered the girl.

  "He's a German tailor named Albert Feke--one of the ChicagoBolsheviki--the most dangerous sort we harbour--one of their vileleaders who preaches that might is right and tells his disciples to goahead and take what they want."

  He looked down at the malignant cripple.

  "You're wanted for the I. W. W. bomb murder, Albert. Did you know it?"

  The hunchback licked his bloody lips. Then he kicked himself to asitting position, squatted there like a toad and looked steadily atTressa Norne out of small red-rimmed eyes. Blood dripped on his beard;his huge hairy fists, tied and crossed behind his back, made odd,spasmodic movements.

  Cleves went to the telephone. Presently Tressa heard his voice, calm anddistinct as usual:

  "We've caught Albert Feke. He's here at my rooms. I'd like to have youcome over, Recklow.... Oh, yes, he kicked and scuffled and scratchedlike a cat.... What?... No, I hadn't heard that he'd been in China....Who?... Albert Feke? You say he was one of the Germans who escaped fromShantung four years ago?... You think he's a Yezidee! You mean one ofthe Eight Assassins?"

  The hunchback, staring at Tressa out of red-rimmed eyes, suddenlysnarled and lurched his misshapen body at her.

  "Teufelstuck!" he screamed, "ain't I tell efferybody in Yianalready it iss safer if we cut your throat! Devil-slut ofErlik--snow-leopardess!--cat of the Yezidees who has made of Sanang afool!--it iss I who haf said always, always, that you know too damnmuch!... Kai!... I hear my soul bidding me farewell. Gif me my shroud!"

  Cleves came back from the telephone. With the toe of his left foot helifted the shroud and kicked it across the hunchback's knees.

  "So you were one of the huns who instigated the massacre in Yian," hesaid, curiously. At that Tressa turned very white and a cry escaped her.

  But the hunchback's features were all twisted into ferocious laughter,and he beat on the carpet with the heels of his great splay feet.

  "Ja! Ja!" he shrieked, "in Yian it vas a goot hunting! English andYankee men und vimmens ve haff dropped into dose deep wells down. PyGott in Himmel, how dey schream up out of dose deep wells in Yian!" Hebegan to cackle and shriek in his frenzy. "Ach Gott ja! It iss not youeither--you there, Keuke Mongol, who shall escape from theSheiks-el-Djebel! It iss dot Old Man of the Mountain who shall tell yoursoul it iss time to say farewell! Ja! Ja! Ach Gott!--it iss my onlyregret that I shall not see the world when it is all afire! Ja! Ja!--allon fire like hell! But you shall see it, slut-leopard of the snows! Youshall see it und you shall burn! Kai! Kai! My soul it iss bidding mybody farewell. Kai! May Erlik curse you, Keuke Mongol--HeavenlyAzure--Sorceress of the temple!--"

  He spat at her and rolled over in his shroud.

  The girl looking down on him closed her eyes for a moment, and Clevessaw her bloodless lips move, and bent nearer, listening. And he heardher whispering to herself:

  "Preserve us all, O God, from the wrath of Satan who was stoned."