VERMUDYN’S FATE.
A TALE OF HALLOWEEN.
IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER II.
‘Of the troop of figures who came flocking into that strange and mysterious house, I observed that some of those behind held more lights, though the room was bright enough already, while the foremost carried dishes. But I had no eyes for the meat and drink they brought, or for anything but a girl in their midst; and it was just the same with Vermudyn, I saw in an instant; only, whilst I was full of horror and a dread I couldn’t shake off or overcome, Vermudyn felt no fear, no surprise; only an intense delight flushed his face with joy, and his eyes glittered, as he came forward eagerly to meet the girl, who, it seemed to me, was pale as death, with eyes that glowed like flame.
‘I think I never saw so colourless a creature to live and move—if indeed she did live. And her hair—redder, and yet more golden than the chain Vermudyn held—was coiled round her beautiful head in the same snaky folds. She never looked at me for an instant, but went straight to Vermudyn, and putting both her hands in his, said some words in a strange language that sounded like spoken music. It was the sweetest voice I ever heard, and the softest. He answered in the same tongue, laughing and clasping the hands she put in his. From that minute, he fell under her spell, and had no eyes or ears for anything save that strange white woman.
‘She poured out wine for him, and he drank it with feverish haste, still looking at her and holding her hand. I noticed, though, that he shuddered when she first touched him, as if her hands were icy-cold; but he felt that no longer; he was just mad-like and stupid, as a bird is with a snake. He could only watch her with wild eyes that never left her face.
‘The men and women who came in with this awful, beautiful creature were dark mostly, and reminded me of the gipsies I used to see when I was a boy at home in England. One of the girls, dressed in outlandish clothes, embroidered in scarlet and gold, came up and offered me some wine—even held it to my lips—and the scent of it made me mad to taste. The girl’s arm was close round my neck, and her wicked eyes, dry and bright as a toad’s, were looking into mine with a mocking smile, as she sang a soft, strange song, like laughing and crying all in one. But I shut my teeth hard, and turning away my head, closed my eyes, determined to resist her with all the strength of my will so long as I was conscious. Even in that dreamy, bewildered state, I felt afraid of entirely losing my senses, and something seemed to tell me I was lost if I yielded for an instant. My tempter laughed then, a loud hideous laugh, and flung down the silver cup she had offered me. The wine was spilt, and I fancied it turned to liquid flame as it touched the floor.
‘Still I had no power to speak or move from my place, but I watched Vermudyn more eagerly than ever. The supper-table was pushed on one side; and the room was now filled with dancers, dancing fiercely and madly to a wild tune, like the song of the gipsy when she leant over me with the poisoned wine. The tune rose louder and higher, and the dancers moved faster to keep time with the unearthly music—unearthly and wild, but so beautiful that I could have listened for ever, I thought. At times it sounded like the wind sighing through the aspens at night; then it rose to a roar like waves breaking on the beach in a storm. Yet, with all the changing sound, the roar of a storm, and the wailing of the wind—tears and laughter and pain—the music still kept time and tune, and the mad dance went on without a pause.
‘Foremost amongst them all was Vermudyn, and the woman in white with the glittering eyes and hair. He was holding her fast in his arms as they flew round; her head lay on his shoulder, and his face was bent down over hers. But I could see, as I watched him, that he had grown almost as white as the girl he held; and now her great eyes blazed with such awful light, I shuddered to look at them; while, as she danced and clasped Vermudyn, I fancied a tinge of colour came into her white lips, and her cheeks were a shade less deathly.
‘Still they danced, and still she grew brighter and warmer, but not like a living woman yet. And Vermudyn, like a mere straw drifting round and round in a whirlpool, became weaker and fainter every minute, and his face now was something ghastly to see; but his eyes were still fixed on the girl, and he could see nothing and feel nothing beside. Her shining hair had got loosened in the dance, and seemed to be flying round them like thin golden flames as they moved.
‘It was she, now, who held Vermudyn up and forced him still to dance. His arms were round her yet; but her strength alone sustained the fainting man. She flew round as easily as ever; her feet scarcely touching the ground. The noise grew furious and deafening—music and laughter, shouts and screams that made my blood run cold, with snatches of old songs between, were all mingled together in one hideous mighty roar.
‘The faces of the men, or the demons who took their shape, got more fiendish as they danced; when suddenly the dancers swept out of the room in a wild crowd, just as they had entered it, and in their midst Vermudyn, lying dead, or senseless, on the floor. I tried to move—to reach him somehow at that desperate pass; but I couldn’t stir a finger. I struggled to shout aloud—to call his name. I might have been dead, for all the help I could give him. I had no power to speak or move.
‘Directly that demoniacal crew left the room, the lights seemed to fade and the fire grow dim. Thick darkness fell over everything, and I could not see a ray of light from where I now lay like a helpless log.
‘I remembered nothing more until I opened my eyes in broad daylight, stiff, and shivering with cold. I was lying at the entrance of a little cave among the rocks, wrapped in my blanket, and close to the embers of a dying fire. My horse, I saw, was picketed not far from me.
‘I was still in the Devil’s Panniken, sure enough. I saw the road by which we had come last night; but the place was strange to me; these were not the rocks I had seen before, which surrounded the place where we had spent the night.
‘We? I was quite alone now, and broad awake! The house and all else had vanished. As the recollections of the past night came crowding back, I sprang up and looked around in wonder. The house—the very room—in which I’d been was so distinctly before my mind’s eye, that I stood staring in amazement to find myself alone. No vestige of the house I’ve described to you, and no Vermudyn either! I told myself that I was clean mad. I searched for him in a sort of frantic hurry, and shouted his name, but heard only the echoes answer me.
‘I tried to get farther into the cave at the mouth of which I’d been lying; but I soon found the way closed by a big chunk of rock. There was no other outlet to the cave, and there was nothing to explain the mystery. There was no sign of Vermudyn or his horse; that, no doubt, had strayed during the night. But where was he, and where, above all, had we two spent the night? I was fairly stunned. I felt for my knife, my revolver. These, with my belt, were safe enough. I had lost nothing. I was simply cold, hungry, and quite alone—save for my nag; and how glad I was of that companion, I can’t tell you! He would be the means of getting me away from that awful place faster than my legs could carry me.
‘I found a hunch of bread and some meat in my wallet; but I was too excited and wretched over Vermudyn’s disappearance, to light a fire and boil some tea. As soon as I’d swallowed down my breakfast, I mounted my horse, and rode backwards and forwards for a good two hours, searching for the body, for I was clear in my own mind that my poor old mate was dead.
‘Dead or alive, I hated to think of riding away and leaving him there in the Devil’s Panniken. But it was no good. I hunted every hole and corner within a mile of the place—as near as I could judge—where we had spent the night. At last I gave up the hopeless search—no signs of Vermudyn anywhere; and before noon, I had turned my horse’s head away from the wretched place, and for the first mile or so I rode so hard and fast that I began to blame my own folly in running away in broad daylight. From what, too?
‘Ay, there was the rub! What was I riding away from? and how had I escaped, while Vermudyn was lost? I was almost mad when I went over the past twenty-four hours. I couldn’t believe my senses. All I’d seen and heard too; and the only other witness was gone, vanished as completely as if he had been a spectre or part of some nightmare dream!
‘I felt my brain reel as I passed mile after mile along the lonely road, till at last I began to wonder if the Vermudyn I thought I knew was ever a living man, or if he made part of a long hideous dream, which I thought I should never forget or get over.
‘But I couldn’t cheat myself so; the man had written his name inside my pocket-book, “C. Vermudyn,” and had given me a ring he told me he once bought in an eastern bazaar. I’ve worn the ring ever since, in memory of him and that awful Halloween night.
‘Sure enough, Vermudyn was no dream; but from that day to this his name has never crossed my lips; and nothing would induce me ever again to ride through the Devil’s Panniken either by day or night.
‘In my own mind, boys, it’s as clear as daylight that the body found in that cave Gentleman Jack was telling you of a while since was neither more nor less than the skeleton of my poor old mate Vermudyn. I never thought to hear of his bones being found after all these years, poor old chap; or of telling you to-night what happened to us that Halloween in the Devil’s Panniken. I only hope he wasn’t alive in that awful place!—alive, and shouting for help, shut up there alone, and hopeless in the dark, whilst I was riding away in sunshine and clear air!—Phaw!’ muttered the old man; ‘it’s no good to think of that now; and talking’s dry work.—Another go of whisky, Pat!’
The murmurs of admiration, astonishment, and feeble doubt over this wondrous story of Old Grizzly’s were arrested almost ere they began, and each man stopped short, as a low, long laugh sounded through the room, and they then perceived what, being absorbed in the ‘tale of mystery,’ they had been too preoccupied to notice before—namely, that a stranger had entered the room some time during the progress of the narrative, and it was he who had dared to laugh! All eyes were turned significantly and inquiringly upon this presumptuous stranger; and one gentleman had gone so far as to deliver himself of the original remark, that ‘he calculated to call that mighty cool,’ when the new-comer advanced into the light of the flaring kerosene lamp, and Old Grizzly sprang to his feet, speechless and aghast.
‘Well, old boy, don’t you know me now?’ asked the stranger. ‘Am I so little like the Vermudyn you chummed with in Cherokee Dick’s claim?’
‘It’s Halloween again,’ muttered the other hoarsely, still delaying to take the proffered hand.
‘And an unlucky night for me to turn up, after the scurvy trick I played you,’ laughed the stranger. ‘But look here, mate—if you kept my ring, I’ve kept yours; and I’m flesh and blood safe enough—no spirit or demon, as you seem to fancy.’
Old Grizzly grasped both his hands, looking long and earnestly in his face meanwhile. ‘It is Vermudyn!’ he at last exclaimed. ‘Though how they found your bones yonder in the Devil’s Panniken, and yet you’re alive and hearty here to-night, is more than Pat Murphy or any other Irishman could explain!’
‘I had better say at once that there’s no mystery about this—this—gentleman’s arrival to-night, at least,’ interposed Gentleman Jack. ‘He is a chance companion and fellow-traveller of mine, and like myself, he hails from ’Frisco last.’
‘As you seem to be in the humour for telling stories to-night, mates,’ observed the newcomer, ‘perhaps it wouldn’t be amiss if I explained to my friend here, in your presence, the truth of his strange Halloween experiences on the night he parted company with me—or I with him—whichever you prefer.
‘I told you once,’ said he, addressing himself to Old Grizzly, ‘I had travelled a good deal and spent some years in the East; but I never told how much I had learned of the manner and customs of the people I lived with; or that, amongst other diverting knowledge, I acquired the art of smoking and eating that extract of hemp known in eastern countries as “hashish;” and no one save those who have been under its marvellous influence can ever understand the wonderful reality of the illusions it produces—stronger and more powerful than any opium in its effect, and less harmful to use. Years ago, the drug was almost unknown; to-day, there are “hashish” eaters and smokers in most of the big cities of the States.
‘At the time I’m speaking of, it was little known, and its effects scarcely understood. I had taken it often enough myself; but some idle whim prompted me to try the result of a dose on my friend here, that special and memorable night of which he has just told you something. Well, I administered a biggish dose in a pill I gave him for an aguish turn he’d had; and after that, as we rode along I let him have some tobacco, as his own was smoked out, and this tobacco of mine consisted almost entirely of the dried hemp, the true “hashish.” We had not ridden a great way into the Devil’s Panniken, talking, as we rode, of the bad reputation of the place and the various legends concerning it, when the drug began to take effect on my old friend here, and he would have fallen from his horse, if I had not kept close beside him and supported him with my arm. As matters were then, I decided to dismount and camp for the night. For myself, I’d never been afraid of man or demon, and I knew my companion could go no farther; so I easily persuaded him to stop, though several times he muttered something about riding on.
‘Well, I wrapped him in his blanket like a babby, lighted him another pipe, just to compose him, and set to work to make a rousing fire, for the night was cold, and a keen frosty wind came sweeping down the ravine. He behaved strangely enough for some time, muttering and talking, while I watched by him; then by turns singing and laughing, while he stared at me or the fire. Once or twice he struggled hard to get up; but by-and-by the hashish overpowered him, and he slept soundly. I remained by him the whole night, and then tried in the early dawn to awaken him, as we wanted to push on. But he slept so heavily, that the idea occurred to me to ride off and leave him to wake alone, thoroughly mystified between his hashish visions and the loss of me!
‘It was a bad, mad sort of practical joke, but I was full of such follies in those early days. After I’d left him, I made tracks for the town we’d determined on visiting together, and waited for him some days; but he never turned up; and then an uneasy fear that some harm had befallen my friend through my own folly, got hold of me; and taking a sudden distaste for a digger’s life, I made my way to the nearest port, and went on board a ship just starting for Europe, and which, luckily for me, stood in need of an extra hand.
‘Since then, I’ve led a roving life on sea and shore, till fate landed me here to-night in time to listen to the account of my mysterious end, as it appeared to my worthy friend. I am sorry to spoil a good story, mates; but the pleasure two old chums experience in finding each other alive and hearty after so strange a parting—twenty years ago—will, I hope, in some degree compensate for your disappointment in discovering that the White Witch of the Devil’s Panniken had no hand in my fate after all!’
‘But,’ interrupted Gentleman Jack, ‘a skeleton with a ring on its finger was found recently in the cave.’
‘Quite possible,’ returned the new-comer; ‘but I am happy to say it is not that of Cornelius Vermudyn.’