"He is one of the greatest occultists of this day. I, too, have studied
psychic lore, but beside your uncle I am a novice."
Dean said, "He is eccentric. Occultism, as you term it, has never
interested me."
The little Japanese watched him impassively. "You make a common error,
Mr. Dean. You consider occultism a hobby for cranks. No"--he held up
a slender hand--"your disbelief is written in your face. Well, it is
understandable. It is an anachronism, an attitude handed down from the
earliest times, when scientists were called alchemists and sorcerers
and burned for making pacts with the devil. But actually there are no
sorcerers, no--witches. Not in the sense that man understands these
terms. There are men and women who have acquired mastery over certain
sciences which are not wholly subject to mundane physical laws."
There was a little smile of disbelief on Dean's face. Yamada went on
quietly. "You do not believe because you do not understand. There are
not many who can comprehend, or who wish to comprehend, this greater
science which is not bound by earthly laws. But here is a problem for
you, Mr. Dean." A little spark of irony flickered in the black eyes.
"Can you tell me how I know you have suffered from nightmares recently?"
Dean jerked around and stood staring. Then he smiled.
"As it happens, I know the answer, Doctor Yamada. You physicians have a
way of hanging together--and I must have let something slip to Doctor
Hedwig yesterday." His tone was offensive, but Yamada merely shrugged
slightly.
"Do you know your Homer?" he asked, apparently irrelevantly, and at
Dean's surprized nod went on, "And Proteus? You remember the Old Man of
the Sea who possessed the power of changing his shape? I do not wish
to strain your credulity, Mr. Dean, but for a long time students of
the dark lore have known that behind this legend there exists a very
terrible truth. All the tales of spirit-possession, of reincarnation,
even the comparatively innocuous experiments in thought-transference,
point to the truth. Why do you suppose folklore abounds with tales of
men who have been able to change themselves into beasts--werewolves,
hyenas, tigers, the seal-men of the Eskimos? Because these tales are
founded on truth!
"I do not mean," he went on, "that the actual physical metamorphosis
of the body is possible, so far as we know. But it has long been known
that the intelligence--the mind--of an adept can be transferred to the
brain and body of a satisfactory subject. Animals' brains are weak,
lacking the power of resistance. But men are different, unless there
are certain circumstances----"
As he hesitated, Dean proffered the Japanese a cup of coffee--coffee
was generally brewing in the percolator these days--and Yamada accepted
it with a formal little bow of acknowledgment. Dean drank his coffee
in three hasty gulps, and poured more. Yamada, after a polite sip, put
the cup aside and leaned forward earnestly.
* * * * *
"I must ask you to make your mind receptive, Mr. Dean. Don't allow
your conventional ideas of life to influence you in this matter. It
is vitally to your interest that you listen carefully to me, and
understand. Then--perhaps----"
He hesitated, and again threw that oddly furtive glance at the window.
"Life in the sea has followed different lines from life on land.
Evolution has followed a different course. In the great deeps of
the ocean, life utterly alien to ours has been discovered--luminous
creatures which burst when exposed to the lighter pressure of the
air--and in those tremendous depths forms of life completely inhuman
have been developed, life forms that the uninitiated mind may think
impossible. In Japan, an island country, we have known of these
sea-dwellers for generations. Your English writer, Arthur Machen, has
told a deep truth in his statement that man, afraid of these strange
beings, has attributed to them beautiful or pleasantly grotesque
forms which in reality they do not possess. Thus we have the nereids
and oceanids--but nevertheless man could not fully disguise the true
foulness of these creatures. Therefore there are legends of the
Gorgons, of Scylla and the harpies--and, significantly, of the mermaids
and their soullessness. No doubt you know the mermaid tale--how they
long to steal the soul of a man, and draw it out by means of their
kiss."
Dean was at the window now, his back to the Japanese. As Yamada paused
he said tonelessly, "Go on."
"I have reason to believe," Yamada went on very quietly, "that Morella
Godolfo, the woman from Alhambra, was not fully--human. She left no
issue. These things never have children--they cannot."
"What do you mean?" Dean had turned and was facing the Japanese, his
face a ghastly white, the shadows beneath his eyes hideously livid. He
repeated harshly, "What do you mean? You can't frighten me with your
tales--if that's what you're trying to do. You--my uncle wants me out
of this house, for some reason of his own. You're taking this means of
getting me out--aren't you? Eh?"
"You must leave this house," Yamada said. "Your uncle is coming,
but he may not be in time. Listen to me: these creatures--the
sea-dwellers--envy man. Sunlight, and warm fires, and the
fields of earth--things which the sea-dwellers cannot normally
possess. These things--and _love_. You remember what I said about
mind-transference--the possession of a brain by an alien intelligence.
That is the only way these things can attain that which they desire,
and know the love of man or woman. Sometimes--not very often--one of
these creatures succeeds in possessing itself of a human body. They
watch always. When there is a wreck, they go there, like vultures to
a feast. They can swim phenomenally fast. When a man is drowning, the
defenses of his mind are down, and sometimes the sea-dwellers can thus
acquire a human body. There have been tales of men saved from wrecks
who ever after were oddly changed.
"Morella Godolfo was one of these creatures! The Godolfos knew much
of the dark lore, but used it for evil purposes--the so-called black
magic. And it was, I think, through this that sea-dweller gained power
to usurp the brain and body of the woman. A transference took place.
The mind of the sea-dweller took possession of Morella Godolfo's
body, and the intelligence of the original Morella was forced into the
terrible form of that creature of the abyss. In time the human body of
the woman died, and the usurping mind returned to its original shell.
The intelligence of Morella Godolfo was then ejected from its temporary
prison, and left homeless. That is true death."
Dean shook his head slowly, as though in denial, but did not speak. And
inexorably Yamada kept on.
"For years, generations, since then she has dwelt in the sea, waiting.
Her power is strongest here, where she once lived. But, as I told you,
only under unusual circumstances can this--transference take place. The
tenants of this house might be troubled with dreams, but that would
be all. The evil being had no power to steal their bodies. Your uncle
knew that, or he would have insisted that the place be immediately
destroyed. He did not foresee that you would ever live here."
The little Japanese bent forward, and his eyes were twin points of
black light.
"You do not need to tell me what you have undergone in the past month.
I know. The sea-dweller has power over you. For one thing, there are
bonds of blood, even though you are not directly descended from her.
And your love for the ocean--your uncle spoke of that. You live here
alone with your paintings and your imaginative fancies; you see no one
else. You are an ideal victim, and it was easy for that sea horror to
become _en rapport_ with you. Even now you show the stigmata."
* * * * *
Dean was silent, his face a pale shadow amidst the darker ones in the
corners of the room. What was the man trying to tell him? What were
these hints leading up to?
"Remember what I have said." Doctor Yamada's voice was fanatically
earnest. "That creature wants you for your youth--your soul. She has
lured you in sleep, with visions of Poseidonis, the twilight grottoes
in the deep. She has sent you beguiling visions at first, to hide
what she was doing. She has drained your life forces, weakened your
resistance, waiting until she is strong enough to take possession of
your brain.
"I have told you what she wants--what all these hybrid horrors raven
for. She will reveal herself to you in time, and when her will is
strong upon you in slumber, you will do her bidding. She will take you
down into the deep, and show you the kraken-fouled gulfs where these
things bide. You will go willingly, and that will be your doom. She may
lure you to their feasts there--the feasts they hold upon the drowned
things they find floating from wrecked ships. And you will live such
madness in your sleep because she rules you. And then--then, when you
have become weak enough, she will have her desire. The sea-thing will
usurp your body and walk once more on earth. And you will go down into
the darkness where once you dwelt in dreams, for ever. Unless I am
mistaken, you have already seen enough to know that I speak truth. I
think that this terrible moment is not so far off, and I warn you that
alone you cannot hope to resist the evil. Only with the aid of your
uncle and me----"
Doctor Yamada stood up. He moved forward and confronted the dazed youth
face to face. In a low voice he asked, "In your dreams--_has the thing
kissed you_?"
For a heart-beat there was utter silence. Dean opened his mouth to
speak, and then a curious little warning note seemed to sound in his
brain. It rose, like the quiet roaring of a conch-shell, and a vague
nausea assailed him.