by Sax Rohmer
This conversation in Colonel Menendez's study produced a very unpleasantimpression upon my mind. The atmosphere of Cray's Folly seemed to becomecharged with unrest. Of Madame de Staemer and Miss Beverley I saw nothingup to the time that I retired to dress. Having dressed I walked intoHarley's room, anxious to learn if he had formed any theory to accountfor the singular business which had brought us to Surrey.
Harley had excused himself directly we had left the study, stating thathe wished to get to the village post-office in time to send a telegramto London. Our host had suggested a messenger, but this, as well as theoffer of a car, Harley had declined, saying that the exercise would aidreflection. Nevertheless, I was surprised to find his room empty, for Icould not imagine why the sending of a telegram should have detained himso long.
Dusk was falling, and viewed from the open window the Tudor garden belowlooked very beautiful, part of it lying in a sort of purplish shadowand the rest being mystically lighted as though viewed through a goldenveil. To the whole picture a sort of magic quality was added by a speckof high-light which rested upon the face of the old sun-dial.
I thought that here was a fit illustration for a fairy tale; then Iremembered the Colonel's account of how he had awakened in the actof entering this romantic plaisance, and I was touched anew by anunrestfulness, by a sense of the uncanny.
I observed a book lying upon the dressing table, and concluding that itwas one which Harley had brought with him, I took it up, glancing at thetitle. It was "Negro Magic," and switching on the light, for there was aprivate electric plant in Cray's Folly, I opened the book at random andbegan to read.
"The religion of the negro," said this authority, "is emotional, andmore often than not associated with beliefs in witchcraft and in therites known as Voodoo or Obi Mysteries. It has been endeavoured bysome students to show that these are relics of the Fetish worship ofequatorial Africa, but such a genealogy has never been satisfactorilydemonstrated. The cannibalistic rituals, human sacrifices, and obsceneceremonies resembling those of the Black Sabbath of the Middle Ages,reported to prevail in Haiti and other of the islands, and by some amongthe negroes of the Southern States of America, may be said to rest ondoubtful authority. Nevertheless, it is a fact beyond doubt that amongthe negroes both of the West Indies and the United States there is awidespread belief in the powers of the Obeah man. A native who believeshimself to have come under the spell of such a sorcerer will sink into akind of decline and sometimes die."
At this point I discovered several paragraphs underlined in pencil, andconcluding that the underlining had been done by Paul Harley, I readthem with particular care. They were as follows: "According to HeskethJ. Bell, the term Obeah is most probably derived from the substantiveObi, a word used on the East coast of Africa to denote witchcraft,sorcery, and fetishism in general. The etymology of Obi has been tracedto a very antique source, stretching far back into Egyptian mythology.A serpent in the Egyptian language was called Ob or Aub. Obion is stillthe Egyptian name for a serpent. Moses, in the name of God, forbade theIsraelites ever to enquire of the demon, Ob, which is translated in ourBible: Charmer or wizard, divinator or sorcerer. The Witch of Endor iscalled Oub or Ob, translated Pythonissa; and Oubois was the name of thebasilisk or royal serpent, emblem of the Sun and an ancient oraculardeity of Africa."
A paragraph followed which was doubly underlined, and pursuing myreading I made a discovery which literally caused me to hold my breath.This is what I read:
"In a recent contribution to the _Occult Review_, Mr. Colin Camber, theAmerican authority, offered some very curious particulars in supportof a theory to show that whereas snakes and scorpions have always beenrecognized as sacred by Voodoo worshippers, the real emblem of theirunclean religion is the bat, especially _the Vampire Bat of SouthAmerica._
"He pointed out that the symptoms of one dying beneath the spell of anObeah man are closely paralleled in the cases of men and animals whohave suffered from nocturnal attacks of blood-sucking bats."
I laid the open book down upon the bed. My brain was in a tumult.The several theories, or outlines of theories which hitherto I hadentertained, were, by these simple paragraphs, cast into the utmostdisorder. I thought of the Colonel's covert references to a neighbourwhom he feared, of his guarded statement that the devotees of Voodoowere not confined to the West Indies, of the attack upon him inWashington, of the bat wing pinned to the door of Cray's Folly.
Incredulously, I thought of my acquaintance of the Lavender Arms, withhis bemused expression and his magnificent brow; and a great doubt andwonder grew up in my mind.
I became increasingly impatient for the return of Paul Harley. I feltthat a clue of the first importance had fallen into my possession; sothat when, presently, as I walked impatiently up and down the room, thedoor opened and Harley entered, I greeted him excitedly.
"Harley!" I cried, "Harley! I have learned a most extraordinary thing!"
Even as I spoke and looked into the keen, eager face, the expressionin Harley's eyes struck me. I recognized that in him, too, intenseexcitement was pent up. Furthermore, he was in one of his irritablemoods. But, full of my own discoveries:
"I chanced to glance at this book," I continued, "whilst I was waitingfor you. You have underlined certain passages."
He stared at me queerly.
"I discovered the book in my own library after you had gone last night,Knox, and it was then that I marked the passages which struck me assignificant."
"But, Harley," I cried, "the man who is quoted here, Colin Camber, livesin this very neighbourhood!"
"I know."
"What! You know?"
"I learned it from Inspector Aylesbury of the County Police half an hourago."
Harley frowned perplexedly. "Then, why, in Heaven's name didn't you tellme?" he exclaimed. "It would have saved me a most disagreeable journeyinto Market Hilton."
"Market Hilton! What, have you been into the town?"
"That is exactly where I have been, Knox. I 'phoned through to Innesfrom the village post-office after lunch to have the car sent down.There is a convenient garage by the Lavender Arms."
"But the Colonel has three cars," I exclaimed.
"The horse has four legs," replied Harley, irritably, "but although Ihave only two, there are times when I prefer to use them. I am stillwondering why you failed to mention this piece of information when youhad obtained it."
"My dear Harley," said I, patiently, "how could I possibly be expectedto attach any importance to the matter? You must remember that at thetime I had never seen this work on negro sorcery."
"No," said Harley, dropping down upon the bed, "that is perfectly true,Knox. I am afraid I have a liver at times; a distinct Indian liver.Excuse me, old man, but to tell you the truth I feel strangely inclinedto pack my bag and leave for London without a moment's delay."
"What!" I cried.
"Oh, I know you would be sorry to go, Knox," said Harley, smiling,"and so, for many reasons, should I. But I have the strongest possibleobjection to being trifled with."
"I am afraid I don't quite understand you, Harley."
"Well, just consider the matter for a moment. Do you suppose thatColonel Menendez is ignorant of the fact that his nearest neighbour is arecognized authority upon Voodoo and allied subjects?"
"You are speaking, of course, of Colin Camber?"
"Of none other."
"No," I replied, thoughtfully, "the Colonel must know, of course, thatCamber resides in the neighbourhood."
"And that he knows something of the nature of Camber's studies hisremarks sufficiently indicate," added Harley. "The whole theory toaccount for these attacks upon his life rests on the premise that agentsof these Obeah people are established in England and America. Then, inspite of my direct questions, he leaves me to find out for myself thatColin Camber's property practically adjoins his own!"
"Really! Does he reside so near as that?"
"My dear fellow," cried Harley, "he lives at a place called the Gue
stHouse. You can see it from part of the grounds of Cray's Folly. We werelooking at it to-day."
"What! the house on the hillside?"
"That's the Guest House! What do you make of it, Knox? That Menendezsuspects this man is beyond doubt. Why should he hesitate to mention hisname?"
"Well," I replied, slowly, "probably because to associate practicalsorcery and assassination with such a character would be preposterous."
"But the man is admittedly a student of these things, Knox."
"He may be, and that he is a genius of some kind I am quite prepared tobelieve. But having had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Colin Camber, I amnot prepared to believe him capable of murder."
I suppose I spoke with a certain air of triumph, for Paul Harleyregarded me silently for a while.
"You seem to be taking this case out of my hands, Knox," he said."Whilst I have been systematically at work racing about the county inquest of information you would appear to have blundered further into thelabyrinth than all my industry has enabled me to do."
He remained in a very evil humour, and now the cause of this suddenlycame to light.
"I have spent a thoroughly unpleasant afternoon," he continued,"interviewing an impossible country policeman who had never heard of myexistence!"
This display of human resentment honestly delighted me. It wasrefreshing to know that the omniscient Paul Harley was capable of pique.
"One, Inspector Aylesbury," he went on, bitterly, "a large personbearing a really interesting resemblance to a walrus, but lacking thatcreature's intelligence. It was not until Superintendent East had spokento him from Scotland Yard that he ceased to treat me as a suspect. Buthis new attitude was almost more provoking than the old one. He adoptedthe manner of a regimental sergeant-major reluctantly interviewinga private with a grievance. If matters should so develop that we arecompelled to deal with that fish-faced idiot, God help us all!"
He burst out laughing, his good humour suddenly quite restored, andtaking out his pipe began industriously to load it.
"I can smoke while I am changing," he said, "and you can sit there andtell me all about Colin Camber."
I did as he requested, and Harley, who could change quicker than anyman I had ever known, had just finished tying his bow as I completed mystory of the encounter at the Lavender Arms.
"Hm," he muttered, as I ceased speaking. "At every turn I realize thatwithout you I should have been lost, Knox. I am afraid I shall have tochange your duties to-morrow."
"Change my duties? What do you mean?"
"I warn you that the new ones will be less pleasant than the old! Inother words, I must ask you to tear yourself away from Miss ValBeverley for an hour in the morning, and take advantage of Mr. Camber'sinvitation to call upon him."
"Frankly, I doubt if he would acknowledge me."
"Nevertheless, you have a better excuse than I. In the circumstances itis most important that we should get in touch with this man."
"Very well," I said, ruefully. "I will do my best. But you don'tseriously think, Harley, that the danger comes from there?"
Paul Harley took his dinner jacket from the chair upon which the man hadlaid it out, and turned to me.
"My dear Knox," he said, "you may remember that I spoke, recently, ofretiring from this profession?"
"You did."
"My retirement will not be voluntary, Knox. I shall be kicked out asan incompetent ass; for, respecting the connection, if any, between thenarrative of Colonel Menendez, the bat wing nailed to the door of thehouse, and Mr. Colin Camber, I have not the foggiest notion. In this, atlast, I have triumphed over Auguste Dupin. Auguste Dupin never confesseddefeat."
CHAPTER X
THE NIGHT WALKER
