"Well, Drayton, I shan't keep you much longer. From Piccadilly we turned
into Bond Street, and were walking up the side-walk on the left-hand
side, when suddenly Edna stopped, and clasped both her hands round my
arm. She uttered a low exclamation, and trembled perceptibly. Her face,
as I looked at it, was quite rigid and colourless. I did not know what
was the matter, but fearing she was about to swoon, I looked round for a
cab. In so doing my eye caught my own reflection in a mirror, fixed at a
shop entrance on the other side of the street. It was in this direction
that Edna also was gazing, and the next moment I no longer wondered
at her ghastly aspect. Close by her shoulder appeared the fantastic
black-garmented figure which I had seen awhile before in Park Lane. He
was making the wildest and most absurd gestures--grinning, throwing
about his arms, making profound mock obeisances, and evidently in an
ecstasy of enjoyment. I looked suddenly round, but the place which
should have been occupied by the original of the reflection appeared
entirely empty. Looking back to the mirror, however, there was the
spectre again, actually capering with ugly glee.
"Meantime people were beginning to notice the strange behaviour of Edna
and myself, and I was thankful when a passing cab enabled me to shield
her from their scrutiny. No sooner were we seated than she fainted away,
and only recovered a few moments before we stopped at her door. As I
helped her out she looked me sadly in the face, and said:
"'Come to me to-morrow afternoon--for the last time.'
"I could say nothing against her decision, Drayton; I felt we should be
really more united, living apart, than were we to force ourselves to
outward association. Our calamity was too strong for us; separation
might appease the mysterious malice of the phantom, and cause him to
return whither he belonged. The persecution of our long-dead ancestors
now recurred to me, as I had read it a few months before in those dusty
old documents, and I could not help seeing a strange similarity between
their fate and ours. Yet we had an advantage in not being married, and
in having the warning of their history before us. You see," observed
Calbot, somewhat bitterly, "even I can talk of advantages!
"I went to her house to-day and had a short interview. I cannot tell you
in detail what we said, but it seems to me as though the memory of it
would gradually oust all other memories from my mind. I told her that
passage of history. We agreed to part--for ever in this world. I took
back the chain and locket which I had given her but so short a time
before. We said good-bye, in cold and distant words. We could not
gratify the evil spirit, which we knew was watching us, by any embrace
or show of grief and passion. We could be proud in our despair."
"One moment, Calbot," said I, interrupting him at this point; "you say
she gave you back the locket?"
"Yes."
"Is it in your possession now?"
"It is at the bottom of the Thames."
"Good! And have you or Miss Burleigh seen anything of your phantom since
then?"
"You forget that we parted only this afternoon. But I understand your
question. No, Drayton, it is there that the fate of our ancestors gives
us timely warning. We must never meet again."
"I don't consider the cases parallel; and besides," I added, with a
glance at my MS., "there is perhaps another point to be considered.
However, finish your story, if there be any more to tell."
"A little more, and then my story will be finished indeed! I am going
with the new expedition to the North Pole, and it will be my own fault
if I return. Well, after leaving her, I came straight downstairs and
hurried out. I felt as though I must go mad, or kill someone--myself
perhaps. As I stood on the doorstep, mechanically buttoning up my
ulster, I felt that creeping sickening chill once more, and knew that
the unholy Thing had passed me. I looked sharply about, and in a moment
or two I saw it, as plainly as ever. It stood on the sunlit pavement,
about fifty yards away, and appeared to be beckoning me to approach.
"I watched it for perhaps a minute, and then a sudden fury took
possession of me. My hatred against this devil which had blighted my
life and Edna's must have leapt up in my eyes, for I fancied, from
the way the phantom leered at me, that he meant to claim a sort of
relationship with me--as though I were become a devil too. Well, if I
were a devil, perhaps I might be able to inflict some torture on this my
fellow. I sprang down the steps, and set off towards it. It waited until
I had passed over more than half the intervening distance, and then it
suddenly turned and walked onward before me. So a chase began."
"Good gracious, Calbot," remonstrated I; "you don't mean to tell me you
ran after it--in the face of all London too?"
"I would have followed it to its own hell if it had led me there,"
he returned. "At first it stalked along swiftly but easily, only
occasionally cutting a grotesque caper in the air, with a flourish
of its arms and legs. It kept always the same distance in front of
me--with no effort could I lessen the interval. Nevertheless, I
gradually increased my speed almost to a run, much to the apparent
delight of the hobgoblin, who skipped with frantic glee over the cold
pavements, occasionally half facing about to wave me on. It turned the
corner of Piccadilly, and I lost sight of it for a moment; but, hurrying
up, there it was again, a short distance up the street. It made me a
profound mock obeisance, and immediately set off anew.
"As I need not tell you, the figure which I was pursuing was visible
only to myself. The street was full of people, there were all the usual
noise, bustle, and gaiety of the city at that hour; but though it passed
through the midst of the crowd, in all the fantastic singularity of its
costume and manner, no one stepped out of its way or turned to gaze
at it. That it should be so terrible a reality to me, and at the same
time so completely non-existent to the rest of the world, affected me
strangely. Here was a new bond of relationship between me and it.
My misery and I were one; but the link which united us was a cap of
invisibility for the demon.
"_I_ was not invisible, however, nor unnoticed. I was conscious that
everyone was staring at me--and no wonder! I must have presented an
odd spectacle, hurrying onward with no apparent object, and with an
expression of face which may well have been startling to behold. But so
long as no attempt was made to stop me, I was indifferent to remark. I
had determined to follow my black friend in the plumed hat, no matter
where the chase might lead me.
"The pace grew quicker and quicker. We went down the Haymarket, and were
now in the throng of the Strand. All the places which I know so well
passed by like remembered dreams. They seemed illusions, and the only
real substance in the world was this Thing that I pursued. The dark
shape continued to glide forward with easy speed, ever and anon giving
me a glimpse of the pallid malignance of its evil visage; but my own
breath was beginning to come hard, and the difficulty of forcing a path
through the press became greater as we neared the heart of the city.
Passing beneath Temple Bar, the spectre stopped a moment and stamped its
foot imperiously, at the same time beckoning to me with an impatient
gesture. I sprang forward, yearning to grapple with it; but it was
gone again, and seemed to flit like a shadow along the sidewalk. Its
merriment, however, now forsook all bounds--it appeared to be in a
ceaseless convulsion of chuckling laughter. We fled onward, but so
absorbed in my pursuit had I now become, that I recollect nothing
distinctly until the tower of St. G----'s came into view. I think a
premonition of what was to occur entered my mind then. The hobgoblin
disappeared--seemingly through the iron railing of the contracted
graveyard which bounds the northern side of the church. I came up to
the railing and looked within. It was sitting on an ancient headstone,
blackened by London smoke and worn by time; it sat with its elbows on
its knees, and its head in its hands. A sombre shadow fell about it,
which the cheerful sunshine could not penetrate; but its awful eyes
emitted a dusky phosphorescent glare, dimly illuminating the leering
features. As I looked, a change came over them--they were now those of a
corpse already mouldering in decay, crumbling into nothingness before my
eyes. The whole figure gradually faded or darkened away: I cannot tell
how or when it vanished. Presently I was staring fixedly at an old
tombstone, with a name and a date upon it; but the churchyard was
empty."