Thenoiseandclamourofthestreethaddiedaway，thoughnowandthenthesoundofshoutingstillcamefromthedistance，andthedull，leadensilenceseemedlikethequietafteranearthquakeorastorm。Villiersturnedfromthewindowandbeganspeaking。
"IwasatahousenearRegent’sParklastnight，andwhenIcameawaythefancytookmetowalkhomeinsteadoftakingahansom。Itwasaclearpleasantnightenough，andafterafewminutesIhadthestreetsprettymuchtomyself。
It’sacuriousthing，Austin，tobealoneinLondonatnight，thegas-lampsstretchingawayinperspective，andthedeadsilence，andthenperhapstherushandclatterofahansomonthestones，andthefirestartingupunderthehorse’shoofs。
Iwalkedalongprettybriskly，forIwasfeelingalittletiredofbeingoutinthenight，andastheclockswerestrikingtwoIturneddownAshleyStreet，which，youknow，isonmyway。Itwasquieterthaneverthere，andthelampswerefewer；
altogether，itlookedasdarkandgloomyasaforestinwinter。
IhaddoneabouthalfthelengthofthestreetwhenIheardadoorclosedverysoftly，andnaturallyIlookeduptoseewhowasabroadlikemyselfatsuchanhour。Asithappens，thereisastreetlampclosetothehouseinquestion，andIsawamanstandingonthestep。Hehadjustshutthedoorandhisfacewastowardsme，andIrecognizedCrashawdirectly。Ineverknewhimtospeakto，butIhadoftenseenhim，andIampositivethatIwasnotmistakeninmyman。Ilookedintohisfaceforamoment，andthen——Iwillconfessthetruth——Isetoffatagoodrun，andkeptituptillIwaswithinmyowndoor。"
"Why？"
"Why？Becauseitmademybloodruncoldtoseethatman’sface。Icouldneverhavesupposedthatsuchaninfernalmedleyofpassionscouldhaveglaredoutofanyhumaneyes；I
almostfaintedasIlooked。IknewIhadlookedintotheeyesofalostsoul，Austin，theman’soutwardformremained，butallhellwaswithinit。Furiouslust，andhatethatwaslikefire，andthelossofallhopeandhorrorthatseemedtoshriekaloudtothenight，thoughhisteethwereshut；andtheutterblacknessofdespair。Iamsurethathedidnotseeme；hesawnothingthatyouorIcansee，butwhathesawIhopewenevershall。Idonotknowwhenhedied；Isupposeinanhour，orperhapstwo，butwhenIpasseddownAshleyStreetandheardtheclosingdoor，thatmannolongerbelongedtothisworld；itwasadevil’sfaceIlookedupon。"
TherewasanintervalofsilenceintheroomwhenVilliersceasedspeaking。Thelightwasfailing，andallthetumultofanhouragowasquitehushed。Austinhadbenthisheadatthecloseofthestory，andhishandcoveredhiseyes。
"Whatcanitmean？"hesaidatlength。
"Whoknows，Austin，whoknows？It’sablackbusiness，butIthinkwehadbetterkeepittoourselves，forthepresentatanyrate。IwillseeifIcannotlearnanythingaboutthathousethroughprivatechannelsofinformation，andifIdolightuponanythingIwillletyouknow。"
VII
THEENCOUNTERINSOHO
ThreeweekslaterAustinreceivedanotefromVilliers，askinghimtocalleitherthatafternoonorthenext。Hechosethenearerdate，andfoundVillierssittingasusualbythewindow，apparentlylostinmeditationonthedrowsytrafficofthestreet。Therewasabambootablebyhisside，afantasticthing，enrichedwithgildingandqueerpaintedscenes，andonitlayalittlepileofpapersarrangedanddocketedasneatlyasanythinginMr。Clarke’soffice。
"Well，Villiers，haveyoumadeanydiscoveriesinthelastthreeweeks？"
"Ithinkso；Ihavehereoneortwomemorandawhichstruckmeassingular，andthereisastatementtowhichI
shallcallyourattention。"
"AndthesedocumentsrelatetoMrs。Beaumont？ItwasreallyCrashawwhomyousawthatnightstandingonthedoorstepofthehouseinAshleyStreet？"
"Astothatmattermybeliefremainsunchanged，butneithermyinquiriesnortheirresultshaveanyspecialrelationtoCrashaw。Butmyinvestigationshavehadastrangeissue。I
havefoundoutwhoMrs。Beaumontis！"
"Whoisshe？Inwhatwaydoyoumean？"
"ImeanthatyouandIknowherbetterunderanothername。"
"Whatnameisthat？"
"Herbert。"
"Herbert！"Austinrepeatedtheword，dazedwithastonishment。
"Yes，Mrs。HerbertofPaulStreet，HelenVaughanofearlieradventuresunknowntome。Youhadreasontorecognizetheexpressionofherface；whenyougohomelookatthefaceinMeyrick’sbookofhorrors，andyouwillknowthesourcesofyourrecollection。"
"Andyouhaveproofofthis？"
"Yes，thebestofproof；IhaveseenMrs。Beaumont，orshallwesayMrs。Herbert？"
"Wheredidyouseeher？"
"HardlyinaplacewhereyouwouldexpecttoseealadywholivesinAshleyStreet，Piccadilly。IsawherenteringahouseinoneofthemeanestandmostdisreputablestreetsinSoho。Infact，Ihadmadeanappointment，thoughnotwithher，andshewasprecisetobothtimeandplace。"
"Allthisseemsverywonderful，butIcannotcallitincredible。Youmustremember，Villiers，thatIhaveseenthiswoman，intheordinaryadventureofLondonsociety，talkingandlaughing，andsippinghercoffeeinacommonplacedrawing-roomwithcommonplacepeople。Butyouknowwhatyouaresaying。"
"Ido；Ihavenotallowedmyselftobeledbysurmisesorfancies。ItwaswithnothoughtoffindingHelenVaughanthatIsearchedforMrs。BeaumontinthedarkwatersofthelifeofLondon，butsuchhasbeentheissue。"
"Youmusthavebeeninstrangeplaces，Villiers。"
"Yes，Ihavebeeninverystrangeplaces。Itwouldhavebeenuseless，youknow，togotoAshleyStreet，andaskMrs。Beaumonttogivemeashortsketchofherprevioushistory。No；assuming，asIhadtoassume，thatherrecordwasnotofthecleanest，itwouldbeprettycertainthatatsomeprevioustimeshemusthavemovedincirclesnotquitesorefinedasherpresentones。Ifyouseemudatthetopofastream，youmaybesurethatitwasonceatthebottom。Iwenttothebottom。IhavealwaysbeenfondofdivingintoQueerStreetformyamusement，andIfoundmyknowledgeofthatlocalityanditsinhabitantsveryuseful。Itis，perhaps，needlesstosaythatmyfriendshadneverheardthenameofBeaumont，andasIhadneverseenthelady，andwasquiteunabletodescribeher，Ihadtosettoworkinanindirectway。Thepeoplethereknowme；Ihavebeenabletodosomeofthemaservicenowandagain，sotheymadenodifficultyaboutgivingtheirinformation；theywereawareIhadnocommunicationdirectorindirectwithScotlandYard。Ihadtocastoutagoodmanylines，though，beforeIgotwhatIwanted，andwhenIlandedthefishIdidnotforamomentsupposeitwasmyfish。ButIlistenedtowhatIwastoldoutofaconstitutionallikingforuselessinformation，andIfoundmyselfinpossessionofaverycuriousstory，though，asI
imagined，notthestoryIwaslookingfor。Itwastothiseffect。Somefiveorsixyearsago，awomannamedRaymondsuddenlymadeherappearanceintheneighbourhoodtowhichIamreferring。Shewasdescribedtomeasbeingquiteyoung，probablynotmorethanseventeenoreighteen，veryhandsome，andlookingasifshecamefromthecountry。Ishouldbewronginsayingthatshefoundherlevelingoingtothisparticularquarter，orassociatingwiththesepeople，forfromwhatIwastold，IshouldthinktheworstdeninLondonfartoogoodforher。ThepersonfromwhomIgotmyinformation，asyoumaysuppose，nogreatPuritan，shudderedandgrewsickintellingmeofthenamelessinfamieswhichwerelaidtohercharge。
Afterlivingthereforayear，orperhapsalittlemore，shedisappearedassuddenlyasshecame，andtheysawnothingofhertillaboutthetimeofthePaulStreetcase。Atfirstshecametoheroldhauntsonlyoccasionally，thenmorefrequently，andfinallytookupherabodethereasbefore，andremainedforsixoreightmonths。It’sofnousemygoingintodetailsastothelifethatwomanled；ifyouwantparticularsyoucanlookatMeyrick’slegacy。Thosedesignswerenotdrawnfromhisimagination。Sheagaindisappeared，andthepeopleoftheplacesawnothingofhertillafewmonthsago。Myinformanttoldmethatshehadtakensomeroomsinahousewhichhepointedout，andtheseroomsshewasinthehabitofvisitingtwoorthreetimesaweekandalwaysatteninthemorning。I
wasledtoexpectthatoneofthesevisitswouldbepaidonacertaindayaboutaweekago，andIaccordinglymanagedtobeonthelook-outincompanywithmyciceroneataquartertoten，andthehourandtheladycamewithequalpunctuality。MyfriendandIwerestandingunderanarchway，alittlewaybackfromthestreet，butshesawus，andgavemeaglancethatI
shallbelonginforgetting。Thatlookwasquiteenoughforme；
IknewMissRaymondtobeMrs。Herbert；asforMrs。Beaumontshehadquitegoneoutofmyhead。Shewentintothehouse，andIwatchedittillfouro’clock，whenshecameout，andthenIfollowedher。Itwasalongchase，andIhadtobeverycarefultokeepalongwayinthebackground，andyetnotlosesightofthewoman。ShetookmedowntotheStrand，andthentoWestminster，andthenupSt。James’sStreet，andalongPiccadilly。IfeltqueerishwhenIsawherturnupAshleyStreet；thethoughtthatMrs。HerbertwasMrs。Beaumontcameintomymind，butitseemedtooimpossibletobetrue。I
waitedatthecorner，keepingmyeyeonherallthetime，andI
tookparticularcaretonotethehouseatwhichshestopped。
Itwasthehousewiththegaycurtains，thehomeofflowers，thehouseoutofwhichCrashawcamethenighthehangedhimselfinhisgarden。Iwasjustgoingawaywithmydiscovery，whenI
sawanemptycarriagecomeroundanddrawupinfrontofthehouse，andIcametotheconclusionthatMrs。Herbertwasgoingoutforadrive，andIwasright。There，asithappened，ImetamanIknow，andwestoodtalkingtogetheralittledistancefromthecarriage-way，towhichIhadmyback。Wehadnotbeentherefortenminuteswhenmyfriendtookoffhishat，andI
glancedroundandsawtheladyIhadbeenfollowingallday。
’Whoisthat？’Isaid，andhisanswerwas’Mrs。Beaumont；livesinAshleyStreet。’Ofcoursetherecouldbenodoubtafterthat。Idon’tknowwhethershesawme，butIdon’tthinkshedid。Iwenthomeatonce，and，onconsideration，IthoughtthatIhadasufficientlygoodcasewithwhichtogotoClarke。"
"WhytoClarke？"
"BecauseIamsurethatClarkeisinpossessionoffactsaboutthiswoman，factsofwhichIknownothing。"
"Well，whatthen？"
Mr。VilliersleanedbackinhischairandlookedreflectivelyatAustinforamomentbeforeheanswered：
"MyideawasthatClarkeandIshouldcallonMrs。
Beaumont。"
"Youwouldnevergointosuchahouseasthat？No，no，Villiers，youcannotdoit。Besides，consider；whatresult……"
"Iwilltellyousoon。ButIwasgoingtosaythatmyinformationdoesnotendhere；ithasbeencompletedinanextraordinarymanner。
"Lookatthisneatlittlepacketofmanuscript；itispaginated，yousee，andIhaveindulgedinthecivilcoquetryofaribbonofredtape。Ithasalmostalegalair，hasn’tit？
Runyoureyeoverit，Austin。ItisanaccountoftheentertainmentMrs。Beaumontprovidedforherchoicerguests。
Themanwhowrotethisescapedwithhislife，butIdonotthinkhewilllivemanyyears。Thedoctorstellhimhemusthavesustainedsomesevereshocktothenerves。"
Austintookthemanuscript，butneverreadit。Openingtheneatpagesathaphazardhiseyewascaughtbyawordandaphrasethatfollowedit；and，sickatheart，withwhitelipsandacoldsweatpouringlikewaterfromhistemples，heflungthepaperdown。
"Takeitaway，Villiers，neverspeakofthisagain。
Areyoumadeofstone，man？Why，thedreadandhorrorofdeathitself，thethoughtsofthemanwhostandsinthekeenmorningairontheblackplatform，bound，thebelltollinginhisears，andwaitsfortheharshrattleofthebolt，areasnothingcomparedtothis。Iwillnotreadit；Ishouldneversleepagain。"
"Verygood。Icanfancywhatyousaw。Yes；itishorribleenough；butafterall，itisanoldstory，anoldmysteryplayedinourday，andindimLondonstreetsinsteadofamidstthevineyardsandtheolivegardens。WeknowwhathappenedtothosewhochancedtomeettheGreatGodPan，andthosewhoarewiseknowthatallsymbolsaresymbolsofsomething，notofnothing。Itwas，indeed，anexquisitesymbolbeneathwhichmenlongagoveiledtheirknowledgeofthemostawful，mostsecretforceswhichlieattheheartofallthings；
forcesbeforewhichthesoulsofmenmustwitheranddieandblacken，astheirbodiesblackenundertheelectriccurrent。
Suchforcescannotbenamed，cannotbespoken，cannotbeimaginedexceptunderaveilandasymbol，asymboltothemostofusappearingaquaint，poeticfancy，tosomeafoolishtale。
ButyouandI，atallevents，haveknownsomethingoftheterrorthatmaydwellinthesecretplaceoflife，manifestedunderhumanflesh；thatwhichiswithoutformtakingtoitselfaform。Oh，Austin，howcanitbe？Howisitthattheverysunlightdoesnotturntoblacknessbeforethisthing，thehardearthmeltandboilbeneathsuchaburden？"
Villierswaspacingupanddowntheroom，andthebeadsofsweatstoodoutonhisforehead。Austinsatsilentforawhile，butVillierssawhimmakeasignuponhisbreast。
"Isayagain，Villiers，youwillsurelyneverentersuchahouseasthat？Youwouldneverpassoutalive。"
"Yes，Austin，Ishallgooutalive——I，andClarkewithme。"
Whatdoyoumean？Youcannot，youwouldnotdare……"
"Waitamoment。Theairwasverypleasantandfreshthismorning；therewasabreezeblowing，eventhroughthisdullstreet，andIthoughtIwouldtakeawalk。Piccadillystretchedbeforemeaclear，brightvista，andthesunflashedonthecarriagesandonthequiveringleavesinthepark。Itwasajoyousmorning，andmenandwomenlookedattheskyandsmiledastheywentabouttheirworkortheirpleasure，andthewindblewasblithelyasuponthemeadowsandthescentedgorse。ButsomehoworotherIgotoutofthebustleandthegaiety，andfoundmyselfwalkingslowlyalongaquiet，dullstreet，wherethereseemedtobenosunshineandnoair，andwherethefewfoot-passengersloiteredastheywalked，andhungindecisivelyaboutcornersandarchways。Iwalkedalong，hardlyknowingwhereIwasgoingorwhatIdidthere，butfeelingimpelled，asonesometimesis，toexplorestillfurther，withavagueideaofreachingsomeunknowngoal。ThusIforgedupthestreet，notingthesmalltrafficofthemilk-shop，andwonderingattheincongruousmedleyofpennypipes，blacktobacco，sweets，newspapers，andcomicsongswhichhereandtherejostledoneanotherintheshortcompassofasinglewindow。IthinkitwasacoldshudderthatsuddenlypassedthroughmethatfirsttoldmethatIhadfoundwhatIwanted。Ilookedupfromthepavementandstoppedbeforeadustyshop，abovewhichtheletteringhadfaded，wheretheredbricksoftwohundredyearsagohadgrimedtoblack；wherethewindowshadgatheredtothemselvesthedustofwintersinnumerable。IsawwhatI
required；butIthinkitwasfiveminutesbeforeIhadsteadiedmyselfandcouldwalkinandaskforitinacoolvoiceandwithacalmface。Ithinktheremusteventhenhavebeenatremorinmywords，fortheoldmanwhocameoutofthebackparlour，andfumbledslowlyamongsthisgoods，lookedoddlyatmeashetiedtheparcel。Ipaidwhatheasked，andstoodleaningbythecounter，withastrangereluctancetotakeupmygoodsandgo。
Iaskedaboutthebusiness，andlearntthattradewasbadandtheprofitscutdownsadly；butthenthestreetwasnotwhatitwasbeforetraffichadbeendiverted，butthatwasdonefortyyearsago，’justbeforemyfatherdied，’hesaid。Igotawayatlast，andwalkedalongsharply；itwasadismalstreetindeed，andIwasgladtoreturntothebustleandthenoise。Wouldyouliketoseemypurchase？"
Austinsaidnothing，butnoddedhisheadslightly；hestilllookedwhiteandsick。Villierspulledoutadrawerinthebambootable，andshowedAustinalongcoilofcord，hardandnew；andatoneendwasarunningnoose。
"Itisthebesthempencord，"saidVilliers，"justasitusedtobemadefortheoldtrade，themantoldme。Notaninchofjutefromendtoend。"
Austinsethisteethhard，andstaredatVilliers，growingwhiterashelooked。
"Youwouldnotdoit，"hemurmuredatlast。"Youwouldnothavebloodonyourhands。MyGod！"heexclaimed，withsuddenvehemence，"youcannotmeanthis，Villiers，thatyouwillmakeyourselfahangman？"
"No。Ishallofferachoice，andleaveHelenVaughanalonewiththiscordinalockedroomforfifteenminutes。Ifwhenwegoinitisnotdone，Ishallcallthenearestpoliceman。Thatisall。"
"Imustgonow。Icannotstayhereanylonger；I
cannotbearthis。Good-night。"
"Good-night，Austin。"
Thedoorshut，butinamomentitwasopenagain，andAustinstood，whiteandghastly，intheentrance。
"Iwasforgetting，"hesaid，"thatItoohavesomethingtotell。IhavereceivedaletterfromDr。HardingofBuenosAyres。HesaysthatheattendedMeyrickforthreeweeksbeforehisdeath。"
"Anddoeshesaywhatcarriedhimoffintheprimeoflife？Itwasnotfever？"
"No，itwasnotfever。Accordingtothedoctor，itwasanuttercollapseofthewholesystem，probablycausedbysomesevereshock。Buthestatesthatthepatientwouldtellhimnothing，andthathewasconsequentlyatsomedisadvantageintreatingthecase。"
"Isthereanythingmore？"
"Yes。Dr。Hardingendshisletterbysaying：’IthinkthisisalltheinformationIcangiveyouaboutyourpoorfriend。HehadnotbeenlonginBuenosAyres，andknewscarcelyanyone，withtheexceptionofapersonwhodidnotbearthebestofcharacters，andhassinceleft——aMrs。Vaughan。’"
VIII
THEFRAGMENTS
[Amongstthepapersofthewell-knownphysician，Dr。
RobertMatheson，ofAshleyStreet，Piccadilly，whodiedsuddenly，ofapoplecticseizure，atthebeginningof1892，aleafofmanuscriptpaperwasfound，coveredwithpenciljottings。ThesenoteswereinLatin，muchabbreviated，andhadevidentlybeenmadeingreathaste。TheMS。wasonlydecipheredwithdifficulty，andsomewordshaveuptothepresenttimeevadedalltheeffortsoftheexpertemployed。
Thedate，"XXVJul。1888，"iswrittenontheright-handcorneroftheMS。ThefollowingisatranslationofDr。
Matheson’smanuscript。]
"Whethersciencewouldbenefitbythesebriefnotesiftheycouldbepublished，Idonotknow，butratherdoubt。ButcertainlyIshallnevertaketheresponsibilityofpublishingordivulgingonewordofwhatisherewritten，notonlyonaccountofmyoathgivenfreelytothosetwopersonswhowerepresent，butalsobecausethedetailsaretooabominable。Itisprobablythat，uponmatureconsideration，andafterweightingthegoodandevil，Ishallonedaydestroythispaper，oratleastleaveitundersealtomyfriendD。，trustinginhisdiscretion，touseitortoburnit，ashemaythinkfit。
"Aswasbefitting，IdidallthatmyknowledgesuggestedtomakesurethatIwassufferingundernodelusion。
Atfirstastounded，Icouldhardlythink，butinaminute’stimeIwassurethatmypulsewassteadyandregular，andthatIwasinmyrealandtruesenses。Ithenfixedmyeyesquietlyonwhatwasbeforeme。
"Thoughhorrorandrevoltingnausearoseupwithinme，andanodourofcorruptionchokedmybreath，Iremainedfirm。
Iwasthenprivilegedoraccursed，Idarenotsaywhich，toseethatwhichwasonthebed，lyingthereblacklikeink，transformedbeforemyeyes。Theskin，andtheflesh，andthemuscles，andthebones，andthefirmstructureofthehumanbodythatIhadthoughttobeunchangeable，andpermanentasadamant，begantomeltanddissolve。
"Iknowthatthebodymaybeseparatedintoitselementsbyexternalagencies，butIshouldhaverefusedtobelievewhatIsaw。Forheretherewassomeinternalforce，ofwhichIknewnothing，thatcauseddissolutionandchange。
"Heretoowasalltheworkbywhichmanhadbeenmaderepeatedbeforemyeyes。Isawtheformwaverfromsextosex，dividingitselffromitself，andthenagainreunited。ThenI
sawthebodydescendtothebeastswhenceitascended，andthatwhichwasontheheightsgodowntothedepths，eventotheabyssofallbeing。Theprincipleoflife，whichmakesorganism，alwaysremained，whiletheoutwardformchanged。
"Thelightwithintheroomhadturnedtoblackness，notthedarknessofnight，inwhichobjectsareseendimly，forI
couldseeclearlyandwithoutdifficulty。Butitwasthenegationoflight；objectswerepresentedtomyeyes，ifImaysayso，withoutanymedium，insuchamannerthatiftherehadbeenaprismintheroomIshouldhaveseennocoloursrepresentedinit。
"Iwatched，andatlastIsawnothingbutasubstanceasjelly。Thentheladderwasascendedagain……[heretheMS。
isillegible]……foroneinstanceIsawaForm，shapedindimnessbeforeme，whichIwillnotfartherdescribe。Butthesymbolofthisformmaybeseeninancientsculptures，andinpaintingswhichsurvivedbeneaththelava，toofoultobespokenof……asahorribleandunspeakableshape，neithermannorbeast，waschangedintohumanform，therecamefinallydeath。
"Iwhosawallthis，notwithoutgreathorrorandloathingofsoul，herewritemyname，declaringallthatIhavesetonthispapertobetrue。
"ROBERTMATHESON，Med。Dr。"
***……Such，Raymond，isthestoryofwhatIknowandwhatIhaveseen。Theburdenofitwastooheavyformetobearalone，andyetIcouldtellittononebutyou。Villiers，whowaswithmeatthelast，knowsnothingofthatawfulsecretofthewood，ofhowwhatwebothsawdie，layuponthesmooth，sweetturfamidstthesummerflowers，halfinsunandhalfinshadow，andholdingthegirlRachel’shand，calledandsummonedthosecompanions，andshapedinsolidform，upontheearthwetreadupon，thehorrorwhichwecanbuthintat，whichwecanonlynameunderafigure。IwouldnottellVilliersofthis，norofthatresemblance，whichstruckmeaswithablowuponmyheart，whenIsawtheportrait，whichfilledthecupofterrorattheend。WhatthiscanmeanIdarenotguess。IknowthatwhatIsawperishwasnotMary，andyetinthelastagonyMary’seyeslookedintomine。Whethertherecanbeanyonewhocanshowthelastlinkinthischainofawfulmystery，Idonotknow，butiftherebeanyonewhocandothis，you，Raymond，aretheman。Andifyouknowthesecret，itrestswithyoutotellitornot，asyouplease。
Iamwritingthislettertoyouimmediatelyonmygettingbacktotown。Ihavebeeninthecountryforthelastfewdays；perhapsyoumaybeabletoguessinwhichpart。WhilethehorrorandwonderofLondonwasatitsheight——for"Mrs。
Beaumont，"asIhavetoldyou，waswellknowninsociety——I
wrotetomyfriendDr。Phillips，givingsomebriefoutline，orratherhint，ofwhathappened，andaskinghimtotellmethenameofthevillagewheretheeventshehadrelatedtomeoccurred。Hegavemethename，ashesaidwiththelesshesitation，becauseRachel’sfatherandmotherweredead，andtherestofthefamilyhadgonetoarelativeintheStateofWashingtonsixmonthsbefore。Theparents，hesaid，hadundoubtedlydiedofgriefandhorrorcausedbytheterribledeathoftheirdaughter，andbywhathadgonebeforethatdeath。
OntheeveningofthedaywhichIreceivedPhillips’letterIwasatCaermaen，andstandingbeneaththemoulderingRomanwalls，whitewiththewintersofseventeenhundredyears，Ilookedoverthemeadowwhereoncehadstoodtheoldertempleofthe"GodoftheDeeps，"andsawahousegleaminginthesunlight。ItwasthehousewhereHelenhadlived。IstayedatCaermaenforseveraldays。Thepeopleoftheplace，Ifound，knewlittleandhadguessedless。ThosewhomIspoketoonthematterseemedsurprisedthatanantiquarian（asIprofessedmyselftobe）
shouldtroubleaboutavillagetragedy，ofwhichtheygaveaverycommonplaceversion，and，asyoumayimagine，ItoldnothingofwhatIknew。Mostofmytimewasspentinthegreatwoodthatrisesjustabovethevillageandclimbsthehillside，andgoesdowntotheriverinthevalley；suchanotherlonglovelyvalley，Raymond，asthatonwhichwelookedonesummernight，walkingtoandfrobeforeyourhouse。FormanyanhourI
strayedthroughthemazeoftheforest，turningnowtorightandnowtoleft，pacingslowlydownlongalleysofundergrowth，shadowyandchill，evenunderthemiddaysun，andhaltingbeneathgreatoaks；lyingontheshortturfofaclearingwherethefaintsweetscentofwildrosescametomeonthewindandmixedwiththeheavyperfumeoftheelder，whosemingledodourisliketheodouroftheroomofthedead，avapourofincenseandcorruption。Istoodattheedgesofthewood，gazingatallthepompandprocessionofthefoxglovestoweringamidstthebrackenandshiningredinthebroadsunshine，andbeyondthemintodeepthicketsofcloseundergrowthwherespringsboilupfromtherockandnourishthewater-weeds，dankandevil。ButinallmywanderingsIavoidedonepartofthewood；itwasnottillyesterdaythatIclimbedtothesummitofthehill，andstoodupontheancientRomanroadthatthreadsthehighestridgeofthewood。Heretheyhadwalked，HelenandRachel，alongthisquietcauseway，uponthepavementofgreenturf，shutinoneithersidebyhighbanksofredearth，andtallhedgesofshiningbeech，andhereIfollowedintheirsteps，lookingout，nowandagain，throughpartingsintheboughs，andseeingononesidethesweepofthewoodstretchingfartorightandleft，andsinkingintothebroadlevel，andbeyond，theyellowsea，andthelandoverthesea。Ontheothersidewasthevalleyandtheriverandhillfollowinghillaswaveonwave，andwoodandmeadow，andcornfield，andwhitehousesgleaming，andagreatwallofmountain，andfarbluepeaksinthenorth。AndsoatleastIcametotheplace。Thetrackwentupagentleslope，andwidenedoutintoanopenspacewithawallofthickundergrowtharoundit，andthen，narrowingagain，passedonintothedistanceandthefaintbluemistofsummerheat。AndintothispleasantsummergladeRachelpassedagirl，andleftit，whoshallsaywhat？Ididnotstaylongthere。
InasmalltownnearCaermaenthereisamuseum，containingforthemostpartRomanremainswhichhavebeenfoundintheneighbourhoodatvarioustimes。OnthedayaftermyarrivalinCaermaenIwalkedovertothetowninquestion，andtooktheopportunityofinspectingthemuseum。AfterIhadseenmostofthesculpturedstones，thecoffins，rings，coins，andfragmentsoftessellatedpavementwhichtheplacecontains，Iwasshownasmallsquarepillarofwhitestone，whichhadbeenrecentlydiscoveredinthewoodofwhichIhavebeenspeaking，and，asIfoundoninquiry，inthatopenspacewheretheRomanroadbroadensout。Ononesideofthepillarwasaninscription，ofwhichItookanote。Someofthelettershavebeendefaced，butIdonotthinktherecanbeanydoubtastothosewhichIsupply。Theinscriptionisasfollows：
DEVOMNODENTiFLAvIVSSENILISPOSSvitPROPTERNVPtiasquaSVIDITSVBVMra"TothegreatgodNodens（thegodoftheGreatDeeporAbyss）FlaviusSenilishaserectedthispillaronaccountofthemarriagewhichhesawbeneaththeshade。"
Thecustodianofthemuseuminformedmethatlocalantiquariesweremuchpuzzled，notbytheinscription，orbyanydifficultyintranslatingit，butastothecircumstanceorritetowhichallusionismade。
***……Andnow，mydearClarke，astowhatyoutellmeaboutHelenVaughan，whomyousayyousawdieundercircumstancesoftheutmostandalmostincrediblehorror。I
wasinterestedinyouraccount，butagooddeal，nayall，ofwhatyoutoldmeIknewalready。Icanunderstandthestrangelikenessyouremarkedinboththeportraitandintheactualface；youhaveseenHelen’smother。Yourememberthatstillsummernightsomanyyearsago，whenItalkedtoyouoftheworldbeyondtheshadows，andofthegodPan。YourememberMary。ShewasthemotherofHelenVaughan，whowasbornninemonthsafterthatnight。
Maryneverrecoveredherreason。Shelay，asyousawher，allthewhileuponherbed，andafewdaysafterthechildwasbornshedied。Ifancythatjustatthelastsheknewme；I
wasstandingbythebed，andtheoldlookcameintohereyesforasecond，andthensheshudderedandgroanedanddied。ItwasanillworkIdidthatnightwhenyouwerepresent；Ibrokeopenthedoorofthehouseoflife，withoutknowingorcaringwhatmightpassforthorenterin。Irecollectyourtellingmeatthetime，sharplyenough，andrightlytoo，inonesense，thatI
hadruinedthereasonofahumanbeingbyafoolishexperiment，basedonanabsurdtheory。Youdidwelltoblameme，butmytheorywasnotallabsurdity。WhatIsaidMarywouldseeshesaw，butIforgotthatnohumaneyescanlookonsuchasightwithimpunity。AndIforgot，asIhavejustsaid，thatwhenthehouseoflifeisthusthrownopen，theremayenterinthatforwhichwehavenoname，andhumanfleshmaybecometheveilofahorroronedarenotexpress。IplayedwithenergieswhichIdidnotunderstand，youhaveseentheendingofit。HelenVaughandidwelltobindthecordaboutherneckanddie，thoughthedeathwashorrible。Theblackenedface，thehideousformuponthebed，changingandmeltingbeforeyoureyesfromwomantoman，frommantobeast，andfrombeasttoworsethanbeast，allthestrangehorrorthatyouwitness，surprisesmebutlittle。
WhatyousaythedoctorwhomyousentforsawandshudderedatI
noticedlongago；IknewwhatIhaddonethemomentthechildwasborn，andwhenitwasscarcelyfiveyearsoldIsurprisedit，notonceortwicebutseveraltimeswithaplaymate，youmayguessofwhatkind。Itwasformeaconstant，anincarnatehorror，andafterafewyearsIfeltIcouldbearitnomore，andIsentHelenVaughanaway。Youknownowwhatfrightenedtheboyinthewood。Therestofthestrangestory，andallelsethatyoutellme，asdiscoveredbyyourfriend，Ihavecontrivedtolearnfromtimetotime，almosttothelastchapter。AndnowHeleniswithhercompanions