Out of the Dark: Tales of Terror by Robert W. Chambers. Robert W. Chambers
glade in the woods, where, at the bottom of the crystal fountain, I saw the reflection of her eyes. All the morning while bathing and dressing I had been persuading myself that the dream was not worth recounting and that a search for the glade and the imaginary stone carving would be ridiculous. But now, as Barris asked the question, I suddenly decided to tell him the whole story.
‘See here, you fellows,’ I said abruptly, ‘I am going to tell you something queer. You can laugh as much as you please to, but first I want to ask Barris a question or two. You have been in China, Barris?’
‘Yes,’ said Barris, looking straight into my eyes.
‘Would a Chinaman be likely to turn lumberman?’
‘Have you seen a Chinaman?’ he asked in a quiet voice.
‘I don’t know; David and I both imagined we did.’
Barris and Pierpont exchanged glances.
‘Have you seen one also?’ I demanded, turning to include Pierpont.
‘No,’ said Barris slowly; ‘but I know that there is, or has been, a Chinaman in these woods.’
‘The devil!’ said I.
‘Yes,’ said Barris gravely; ‘the devil, if you like – a devil – a member of the Kuen-Yuin.’
I drew my chair close to the hammock where Pierpont lay at full length, holding out to me a ball of pure gold.
‘Well?’ said I, examining the engraving on its surface, which represented a mass of twisted creatures – dragons, I supposed.
‘Well,’ repeated Barris, extending his hand to take the golden ball, ‘this globe of gold engraved with reptiles and Chinese hieroglyphics is the symbol of the Kuen-Yuin.’
‘Where did you get it?’ I asked, feeling that something startling was impending.
‘Pierpont found it by the lake at sunrise this morning. It is the symbol of the Kuen-Yuin,’ he repeated, ‘the terrible Kuen-Yuin, the sorcerers of China, and the most murderously diabolical sect on earth.’
We puffed our cigarettes in silence until Barris rose, and began to pace backward and forward among the trees, twisting his gray moustache.
‘The Kuen-Yuin are sorcerers,’ he said, pausing before the hammock where Pierpont lay watching him; ‘I mean exactly what I say – sorcerers. I’ve seen them – I’ve seen them at their devilish business, and I repeat to you solemnly, that as there are angels above, there is a race of devils on earth and they are sorcerers. Bah!’ he cried, ‘talk to me of Indian magic and Yogis and all that clap-trap! Why, Roy, I tell you that the Kuen-Yuin have absolute control of a hundred millions of people, mind and body, body and soul. Do you know what goes on in the interior of China? Does Europe know – could any human being conceive of the condition of that gigantic hellpit? You read the papers, you hear diplomatic twaddle about Li Hung Chang and the Emperor, you see accounts of battles on sea and land, and you know that Japan has raised a toy tempest along the jagged edge of the great unknown. But you never before heard of the Kuen-Yuin; no, nor has any European except a stray missionary or two, and yet I tell you that when the fires from this pit of hell have eaten through the continent to the coast, the explosion will inundate half a world – and God help the other half.’
Pierpont’s cigarette went out; he lighted another, and looked hard at Barris.
‘But,’ resumed Barris quietly, ‘“sufficient unto the day”, you know – I didn’t intend to say as much as I did – it would do no good – even you and Pierpont will forget it – it seems so impossible and so far away – like the burning out of the sun. What I want to discuss is the possibility or probability of a Chinaman – a member of the Kuen-Yuin, being here, at this moment, in the forest.’
‘If he is,’ said Pierpont, ‘possibly the gold-makers owe their discovery to him.’
‘I do not doubt it for a second,’ said Barris earnestly.
I took the little golden globe in my hand, and examined the characters engraved upon it.
‘Barris,’ said Pierpont, ‘I can’t believe in sorcery while I am wearing one of Sanford’s shooting suits in the pocket of which rests an uncut volume of the “Duchess”.’
‘Neither can I,’ I said, ‘for I read the Evening Post, and I know Mr Godkin would not allow it. Hello! What’s the matter with this gold ball?’
‘What is the matter?’ said Barris grimly.
‘Why – why – it’s changing color – purple, no, crimson – no, it’s green I mean – good Heavens! these dragons are twisting under my fingers—’
‘Impossible!’ muttered Pierpont, leaning over me; ‘those are not dragons—’
‘No!’ I cried excitedly; ‘they are pictures of that reptile that Barris brought back – see – see – how they crawl and turn—’
‘Drop it!’ commanded Barris; and I threw the ball on the turf. In an instant we had all knelt down on the grass beside it, but the globe was again golden, grotesquely wrought with dragons and strange signs.
Pierpont, a little red in the face, picked it up, and handed it to Barris. He placed it on a chair, and sat down beside me.
‘Whew!’ said I, wiping the perspiration from my face, ‘how did you play us that trick, Barris?’
‘Trick?’ said Barris contemptuously.
I looked at Pierpont, and my heart sank. If this was not a trick, what was it? Pierpont returned my glance and colored, but all he said was, ‘It’s devilish queer,’ and Barris answered, ‘Yes, devilish’. Then Barris asked me again to tell my story, and I did, beginning from the time I met David in the spinney to the moment when I sprang into the darkening thicket where that yellow mask had grinned like a phantom skull.
‘Shall we try to find the fountain?’ I asked after a pause.
‘Yes – and – er – the lady,’ suggested Pierpont vaguely.
‘Don’t be an ass,’ I said a little impatiently, ‘you need not come, you know.’
‘Oh, I’ll come,’ said Pierpont, ‘unless you think I am indiscreet—’
‘Shut up, Pierpont,’ said Barris, ‘this thing is serious; I never heard of such a glade or such a fountain, but it’s true that nobody knows this forest thoroughly. It’s worthwhile trying for; Roy, can you find your way back to it?’
‘Easily,’ I answered; ‘when shall we go?’
‘It will knock our snipe shooting on the head,’ said Pierpont, ‘but when one has the opportunity of finding a live dream-lady—’
I rose, deeply offended, but Pierpont was not very penitent and his laughter was irresistible.
‘The lady’s yours by right of discovery,’ he said, ‘I’ll promise not to infringe on your dreams – I’ll dream about other ladies—’
‘Come, come,’ said I, ‘I’ll have Howlett put you to bed in a minute. Barris, if you are ready – we can get back to dinner—’
Barris had risen and was gazing at me earnestly.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked nervously, for I saw that his eyes were fixed on my forehead, and I thought of Ysonde and the white crescent scar.
‘Is that a birthmark?’ said Barris.
‘Yes – why, Barris?’
‘Nothing – an interesting coincidence—’
‘What! – for Heaven’s sake!’
‘The scar – or rather the birthmark. It