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shadowed town while I was still within its borders. The insane yarn I had heard from the aged
drunkard did not promise very pleasant dreams, and I felt I must keep the image of his wild,
watery eyes as far as possible from my imagination.
Also, I must not dwell on what that factory inspector had told the Newburyport ticket-agent about
the Gilman House and the voices of its nocturnal tenants - - not on that, nor on the face beneath
the tiara in the black church doorway; the face for whose horror my conscious mind could not
account. It would perhaps have been easier to keep my thoughts from disturbing topics had the
room not been so gruesomely musty. As it was, the lethal mustiness blended hideously with the
town's general fishy odour and persistently focussed one's fancy on death and decay.
Another thing that disturbed me was the absence of a bolt on the door of my room. One had been
there, as marks clearly shewed, but there were signs of recent removal. No doubt it had been out
of order, like so many other things in this decrepit edifice. In my nervousness I looked around
and discovered a bolt on the clothespress which seemed to be of the same size, judging from the
marks, as the one formerly on the door. To gain a partial relief from the general tension I busied
myself by transferring this hardware to the vacant place with the aid of a handy three-in-one
device including a screwdriver which I kept on my key-ring. The bolt fitted perfectly, and I was
somewhat relieved when I knew that I could shoot it firmly upon retiring. Not that I had any real
apprehension of its need, but that any symbol of security was welcome in an environment of this
kind. There were adequate bolts on the two lateral doors to connecting rooms, and these I
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proceeded to fasten.
I did not undress, but decided to read till I was sleepy and then lie down with only my coat,
collar, and shoes off. Taking a pocket flash light from my valise, I placed ft in my trousers, so
that I could read my watch if I woke up later in the dark. Drowsiness, however, did not come; and
when I stopped to analyse my thoughts I found to my disquiet that I was really unconsciously
listening for something - - listening for something which I dreaded but could not name. That
inspector's story must have worked on my imagination more deeply than I had suspected. Again I
tried to read, but found that I made no progress.
After a time I seemed to hear the stairs and corridors creak at intervals as if with footsteps,
and wondered if the other rooms were beginning to fill up. There were no voices, however, and it
struck me that there was something subtly furtive about the creaking. I did not like it, and
debated whether I had better try to sleep at all. This town had some queer people, and there had
undoubtedly been several disappearances. Was this one of those inns where travelers were slain for
their money? Surely I had no look of excessive prosperity. Or were the towns folk really so
resentful about curious visitors? Had my obvious sightseeing, with its frequent map-
consultations, aroused unfavorable notice. It occurred to me that I must be in a highly nervous
state to let a few random creakings set me off speculating in this fashion - - but I regretted
none the less that I was unarmed.
At length, feeling a fatigue which had nothing of drowsiness in it, I bolted the newly outfitted
hall door, turned off the light, and threw myself down on the hard, uneven bed - - coat, collar,
shoes, and all. In the darkness every faint noise of the night seemed magnified, and a flood of
doubly unpleasant thoughts swept over me. I was sorry I had put out the light, yet was too tired
to rise and turn it on again. Then, after a long, dreary interval, and prefaced by a fresh
creaking of stairs and corridor, there came that soft; damnably unmistakable sound which seemed
like a malign fulfillment of all my apprehensions. Without the lean shadow of a doubt, the lock
of my door was being tried - - cautiously, furtively, tentatively - - with a key.
My sensations upon recognising this sign of actual peril were perhaps less rather than more
tumultuous because of my previous vague fear I had about, albeit without definite reason,
instinctively on my guard - - and that was to my advantage in the new and real crisis, whatever it
might turn out to be. Nevertheless the change in the menace from vague premonition to immediate
reality was a profound shock, and fell upon me with the force of a genuine blow. It never once
occurred to me that the fumbling might be a mere mistake. Malign purpose was all I could think of,
and I kept deathly quiet, awaiting the would-he intruder's next move.
After a time the cautious rattling ceased, and I heard the room to the north entered with a pass
key. Then the lock of the connecting door to my room was softly tried. The bolt held, of course,
and I heard the floor creak as the prowler left the room. After a moment there came another soft
rattling, and I knew that the room to the south of me was being entered. Again a furtive trying of
a bolted connecting door, and again a receding creaking. This time the creaking went along the
hall and down the stairs, so I knew that the prowler had raised the bolted condition of my doors
and was giving up his attempt for a greater or lesser time, as the future would shew.
The readiness with which I fell into a plan of action proves that I must have been subconsciously
fearing some menace and considering possible avenues of escape for hours. From the first I felt
that the unseen fumbler meant a danger not to be met or dealt with, but only to be fled from as
precipitately as possible. The one thing to do was to get out of that hotel alive as quickly as I
could, and through some channel other than the front stairs and lobby. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]