This time the passages were
lighted, and he suffered no exciting contretemps; yet the winding
corridor was dim with shadows, and the last portion, from the bend of
the walls onwards, seemed longer than he had ever known it. It ran
downhill like the pathway on a mountain side, and as he tiptoed softly
down it he felt that by rights it ought to have led him clean out of
the house into the heart of a great forest. The world was singing with
him. Strange fancies filled his brain, and once in the room, with the
door securely locked, he did not light the candles, but sat by the open
window thinking long, long thoughts that came unbidden in troops to his
mind.
This part of the story he told to Dr. Silence, without special
coaxing, it is true, yet with much stammering embarrassment. He could
not in the least understand, he said, how the girl had managed to
affect him so profoundly, and even before he had set eyes upon her. For
her mere proximity in the darkness had been sufficient to set him on
fire. He knew nothing of enchantments, and for years had been a
stranger to anything approaching tender relations with any member of
the opposite sex, for he was encased in shyness, and realised his
overwhelming defects only too well. Yet this bewitching young creature
came to him deliberately. 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.
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