Her manner was unmistakable, and she sought
him out on every possible occasion. Chaste and sweet she was
undoubtedly, yet frankly inviting; and she won him utterly with the
first glance of her shining eyes, even if she had not already done so
in the dark merely by the magic of her invisible presence.
“You felt she was altogether wholesome and good!”
queried the doctor. “You had no reaction of any sort—for instance, of
alarm?”
Vezin looked up sharply with one of his inimitable
little apologetic smiles. It was some time before he replied. The mere
memory of the adventure had suffused his shy face with blushes, and his
brown eyes sought the floor again before he answered.
“I don’t think I can quite say that,” he explained
presently. “I acknowledged certain qualms, sitting up in my room
afterwards. A conviction grew upon me that there was something about
her—how shall I express it?—well, something unholy. It is not
impurity in any sense, physical or mental, that I mean, but something
quite indefinable that gave me a vague sensation of the creeps. She
drew me, and at the same time repelled me, more than—than–-“
He hesitated, blushing furiously, and unable to finish the sentence.
“Nothing like it has ever come to me before or
since,” he concluded, with lame confusion. “I suppose it was, as you
suggested just now, something of an enchantment. At any rate, it was
strong enough to make me feel that I would stay in that awful little
haunted town for years if only I could see her every day, hear her
voice, watch her wonderful movements, and sometimes, perhaps, touch her
hand.”
“Can you explain to me what you felt was the source
of her power?” John Silence asked, looking purposely anywhere but at
the narrator.
“I am surprised that you should ask me such a
question,” answered Vezin, with the nearest approach to dignity he
could manage. “I think no man can describe to another convincingly
wherein lies the magic of the woman who ensnares him. I certainly
cannot. I can only say this slip of a girl bewitched me, and the mere
knowledge that she was living and sleeping in the same house filled me
with an extraordinary sense of delight.
“But there’s one thing I can tell you,” he went on
earnestly, his eyes aglow, “namely, that she seemed to sum up and
synthesise in herself all the strange hidden forces that operated so
mysteriously in the town and its inhabitants. She had the silken
movements of the panther, going smoothly, silently to and fro, and the
same indirect, oblique methods as the townsfolk, screening, like them,
secret purposes of her own—purposes that I was sure had me for
their objective. She kept me, to my terror and delight, ceaselessly
under observation, yet so carelessly, so consummately, that another man
less sensitive, if I may say so”—he made a deprecating gesture—”or
less prepared by what had gone before, would never have noticed it at
all. She was always still, always reposeful, yet she seemed to be
everywhere at once, so that I never could escape from her. I was
continually meeting the stare and laughter of her great eyes, in the
corners of the rooms, in the passages, calmly looking at me through the
windows, or in the busiest parts of the public streets.”
Their intimacy, it seems, grew very rapidly after
this first encounter which had so violently disturbed the little man’s
equilibrium. He was naturally very prim, and prim folk live mostly in
so small a world that anything violently unusual may shake them clean
out of it, and they therefore instinctively distrust originality. But
Vezin began to forget his primness after awhile. The girl was always
modestly behaved, and as her mother’s representative she naturally had
to do with the guests in the hotel. It was not out of the way that a
spirit of camaraderie should spring up. Besides, she was young, she was
charmingly pretty, she was French, and—she obviously liked him.
At the same time, there was something
indescribable—a certain indefinable atmosphere of other places, other
times—that made him try hard to remain on his guard, and sometimes
made him catch his breath with a sudden start. It was all rather like a
delirious dream, half delight, half dread, he confided in a whisper to
Dr. Silence; and more than once he hardly knew quite what he was doing
or saying, as though he were driven forward by impulses he scarcely
recognised as his own.
And though the thought of leaving presented itself
again and again to his mind, it was each time with less insistence, so
that he stayed on from day to day, becoming more and more a part of the
sleepy life of this dreamy mediaeval town, losing more and more of his
recognisable personality. Soon, he felt, the Curtain within would roll
up with an awful rush, and he would find himself suddenly admitted into
the secret purposes of the hidden life that lay behind it all. Only, by
that time, he would have become transformed into an entirely different
being.
And, meanwhile, he noticed various little signs of
the intention to make his stay attractive to him: flowers in his
bedroom, a more comfortable arm-chair in the corner, and even special
little extra dishes on his private table in the dining-room.
Conversations, too, with “Mademoiselle Use” became more and more
frequent and pleasant, and although they seldom travelled beyond the
weather, or the details of the town, the girl, he noticed, was never in
a hurry to bring them to an end, and often contrived to interject
little odd sentences that he never properly understood, yet felt to be
significant.
And it was these stray remarks, full of a meaning
that evaded him, that pointed to some hidden purpose of her own and
made him feel uneasy. They all had to do, he felt sure, with reasons
for his staying on in the town indefinitely.
“And has M’sieur not even yet come to a decision?”
she said softly in his ear, sitting beside him in the sunny yard before
dejeuner, the acquaintance having progressed with significant
rapidity. “Because, if it’s so difficult, we must all try together to
help him!”
The question startled him, following upon his own
thoughts.
1 comment