Collected Fiction Volume 1 (1905-1925): A Variorum Edition
Page 59
It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom.[86] Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom box to gather strength[87] for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. The hungry horse was neighing repeatedly and almost uncannily, and he vaguely wished it would stop. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age.[88] As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks[89] the wholesale[90] rending of wood. He had, it seems, planned in vain when choosing the stoutest coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not care to imagine. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it.
Birch, in his ghastly situation, was now too low for an easy scramble out of the enlarged transom;[91] but gathered his energies for a determined try. Clutching the edges of the aperture, he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles. In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity. Horrible pains,[92] as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden[93] box. Perhaps he screamed. At any rate[94] he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically[95] whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon.
Instinct guided him in his[96] wriggle through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. He could not walk, it appeared, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge;[97] his fingers clawing the black mould[98] in brainless haste, and his body responding[99] with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. There was evidently, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered[100] his feeble clawing at the door.
Armington helped Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr.[101] Davis. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence;[102] merely muttering such things as “oh, my ankles!”,[103] “let[104] go!”,[105] or “shut in the tomb”.[106] Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient’s outer clothing, shoes,[107] and socks. The wounds—for both ankles were frightfully lacerated about the Achilles’[108] tendons—seemed to puzzle the old physician greatly, and finally almost to frighten him. His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members;[109] binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible.
For an impersonal doctor, Davis’s ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to drain from the weakened undertaker every least[110] detail of his horrible experience. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile;[111] how he had chosen it, how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk,[112] and how he had distinguished[113] it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph[114] Sawyer. Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? Davis, an old-time village practitioner, had of course seen both at the respective funerals, as indeed he had attended both Fenner and[115] Sawyer in their last illnesses. He had even wondered, at Sawyer’s funeral,[116] how the vindictive farmer had managed to lie straight in a box so closely akin to that of the diminutive Fenner.
After a full two hours Dr.[117] Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by[118] loose nails and splintering wood. What else, he added, could ever in any case be proved or believed? But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. Birch heeded this advice all the rest of his life till[119] he told me his story;[120] and when I saw the scars—ancient and whitened as they then[121] were—I agreed that he was wise in so doing. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. His thinking processes, once so phlegmatic and logical, had become ineffaceably scarred;[122] and it was pitiful to note his response[123] to certain chance allusions such as “Friday”, “tomb”, “coffin”,[124] and words of less obvious concatenation.[125] His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. He changed his[126] business, but something always preyed upon him.[127] It may have been just fear, and it may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of [128] remorse for bygone crudities.[129] His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant[130] to alleviate.
When Dr.[131] Davis left Birch[132] that night[133] he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb.[134] The moon was shining on the scattered brick fragments and marred[135] facade,[136] and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms,[137] the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. He cried aloud once,[138] and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him[139] a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol.
“It was Asaph’s[140] coffin, Birch, just as I thought! I knew his teeth, with the front ones missing on the upper jaw—never, for God’s sake, shew[141] those wounds! The body was pretty badly gone, but if ever I saw vindictiveness on any face—or former face.[142] . . . You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a year ago last August. . . . He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death[143] himself. God, what a rage![144] I’d hate to have it aimed at me!
“Why did you do it, Birch?[145] He was a scoundrel, and I don’t blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you always did go too damned far! Well enough to skimp on the thing[146] some way, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.
“I’ll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. You kicked hard, for Asaph’s coffin was on the floor. His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about. I’ve seen sights[147] before, but there was one thing too much here. An eye for an eye! Great heavens,[148] Birch, but you got what you deserved.[149] The skull turned my stomach, but the other was worse—those ankles cut neatly off to fit Matt Fenner’s cast-aside coffin!” [150]
Notes
Editor’s Note: The surviving T.Ms. was prepared by HPL; it bears some revisions both in pencil and in pen by him, and apparently some marks made by R. H. Barlow and perhaps even August Derleth. HPL sent the T.Ms. (before making the pencil revisions) for publication in the Tryout (November 1925), where the story appeared with even more than the usual array of typographical errors; then, as HPL was circulating the ms. to his associates, Derleth decided to type a new draft (see SL 4.25) and sent it to Weird Tales, where it was published in the issue for April 1932. Derleth apparently typed from the T.Ms. before it was revised in pencil, for the Weird Tales text does not include the revisions; moreover, aside from making errors, Derleth may have made wilful alterations in the text. Some of the variations between HPL’s T.Ms. and the Weird Tales text are more easily accounted for by changes in the Derleth-prepared T.Ms. than by editorial altera
tions by Weird Tales. Barlow’s annotations include only elucidations of some of the revisions that HPL had scribbled upon the T.Ms. The Arkham House editions derive from the Weird Tales appearance, hence are quite inaccurate. The dedication appears only in the Tryout appearance and has been erased from HPL’s T.Ms., hence we can assume that HPL wished it to appear only in the Tryout, as an acknowledgement that the idea had come from the Tryout’s editor, C. W. Smith.
Texts: A = T.Ms. (JHL); B = Tryout 10, No. 6 (November 1925): [3–17]; C = Weird Tales 19, No. 4 (April 1932): 459–65; D = The Dunwich Horror and Others (Arkham House, 1963), 10–18. Copy-text: A.
1. [Dedication following title: “Dedicated to C. W. Smith, from whose suggestion the central situation is taken.”] A [erased], B; om. C, D
2. bucolic] bucolitc B
3. thick-fibred] thick-fibered C, D
4. village] om. B
5. comedy.] comedy, B
6. darkest tragedies] darkes tragediest B
7. physician Dr.] physician, Doctor C, D
8. Davis,] Davii, B
9. affliction] affiiction B
10. receiving tomb] receiving-tomb C, D
11. which] whieh B
12. to whisper] towhisper B
13. someone] some one C, D
14. Valley;] Valley, C, D
15. practices] practises C, D
16. unbelievable] unbeliveable B
17. least] least, B
18. known] know B
19. debatable] om. C, D [written in pencil in A]
20. “laying-out”] “laying out” B
21. degree] degrees C, D
22. an] a B
23. fibre] fiber C, D
24. liquorish,] liquerish, B
25. story] story, B
26. practiced teller] teller B; practised teller C, D
27. receiving tomb.] receiving-tomb. C, D
28. bitter] bitter winter B
29. or] nor C, D
30. nonchalant] nonchalent B
31. harvests] harvest B
32. mortal tenement] soul A [revised in pencil], B; body C, D
33. Birch] Brich B
34. till] until C, D
35. 15th.] fifteenth. A, C, D
36. afternoon] aftrenoon B
37. 15th,] fifteenth, A, C, D
38. then,] when, B
39. Fenner.] Fenner, B
40. subsequently] sebsequently B
41. as he . . . and] om. B
42. head,] head B
43. that former occasion] former occasions B
44. had] om. B; had seemingly A, C, D [seemingly erased in A]
45. shelter] shelter, C, D
46. concerned only] only concerned B
47. good,] good B
48. carelessly] caarelessly B
49. recognised] recognized C, D
50. transom admitted] transomadmitted B
51. of] om. C, D
52. overhead] over-head B
53. rattled the] rattle dthe B
54. portal] portals B
55. realise] realize B, C, D
56. unsympathetic] unsympathetc B
57. The] ‘This B
58. three-thirty] 3:30 B
59. but] bnt B
60. rambler hither,] ramblre hither B
61. might have] migh thave B
62. unwholesome;] unwholesome, C, D
63. candle; but] candle, but B; candle; but, C, D
64. least] least an B
65. meagre] meager C, D
66. under such] under|such B
67. hillside,] side-hill, A [revised in pencil], B, C; sidehill, D
68. facade] façade C, D
69. rested as] restedas B
70. rear— . . . use—] rear, . . . use, C, D
71. on] no B
72. piled] piied B
73. minimum] minimun B
74. utilise] utilize C, D
75. surface] surfice B
76. case] case, C, D
77. appropriate;] appropriate, C, D
78. newly gathered] newly-gathered A, B, C, D
79. midnight—] midnight; C, D
80. eery] evry B
81. the] he B
82. philosophically] phllosophically B
83. brickwork;] brick-/work, C, D
84. height;] height, C, D
85. might] would C, D
86. transom.] trasnom. B
87. strength] streutgh B
88. age.] age. ¶ C
89. bespeaks] be speaks B
90. wholesale] wholesnle B
91. transom;] transom, C, D
92. pains,] pains B
93. breaking wooden] break-/wooden B
94. rate] rate, C, D
95. automatically] automaticllay B
96. in his] to B
97. lodge;] lodge, C, D
98. mould] mold C, D
99. responding] respounding B
100. answered] responded to A [revised in pencil], B, C, D
101. Dr.] Doctor C, D
102. consequence;] consequence, C, D
103. ankles!”,] ankles!” B
104. “oh, . . . “let] “Oh, . . . “Let C, D
105. go!”,] go!” B
106. “shut . . . tomb”.] “shut . . . tomb!” B; “. . . shut . . . tomb.” C, D
107. shoes,] shoes C, D
108. Achilles’] Achilles C, D
109. members;] members, C, D
110. least] last C, D
111. pile;] pile, C, D
112. dusk,] dark, C, D
113. distinguished] disringuished B
114. Asaph] Asanh B
115. and] aud B
116. funeral,] funreal, B
117. Dr.] Doctor C, D
118. caused . . . by] due . . . to A [revised in pencil], B, C, D
119. till] until C, D
120. story;] story, C, D
121. then] rhen B
122. scarred;] scarred, C, D
123. response] reaction A [revised in pencil], B, C, D
124. “Friday”, “tomb”, “coffin”,] “Friday,” “tomb,” “coffin,” B, C, D
125. concatenation.] contatenation. B
126. changed his] dhangedh is B
127. upon him.] uponhim. B
128. of] o B
129. crudities.] cruditnes. B
130. it was meant] it sought A [revised in pencil], B; he sought C, D
131. Dr.] Doctor C, D
132. Birch] Breib B
133. night] night, C, D
134. receiving tomb.] receiving-tomb. C, D
135. marred] manned B
136. facade,] façade, C, D
137. dissecting rooms,] dissecting-rooms, C, D
138. once,] once B
139. hurling at him] huring at bim B
140. Asaph’s] Asapha’s B
141. shew] show A, B, C, D
142. face.] face! C, D
143. old Father Death himself.] old Father Death himsell, B; time and death! C, D
144. what a rage!] his rage— C, D
145. it, Birch?] it Birch, B
146. thing] thing in C, D
147. I’ve seen sights] Iv’e seen sfghts B
148. heavens,] Heavens, A, B
149. deserved.] deserved! C, D
150. those . . . coffin!” ] those . . . coffin!” A [underscore added in pencil], B [copy of B in possession of L. W. Currey shows underscore in HPL’s handwriting]
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