Chapter 2: The Plain Of Silence

I Am An Old Man. I Live Here In This Ancient House, Surrounded By Huge, Unkempt Gardens.

The Peasantry, Who Inhabit The Wilderness Beyond, Say That I Am Mad. That Is Because I Will Have Nothing To Do With Them. I Live Here Alone With My Old Sister, Who Is Also My Housekeeper. We Keep No Servants--I Hate Them. I Have One Friend, A Dog; Yes, I Would Sooner Have Old Pepper Than The Rest Of Creation Together. He, At Least, Understands Me--And Has Sense Enough To Leave Me Alone When I Am In My Dark Moods.

I Have Decided To Start A Kind Of Diary; It May Enable Me To Record Some Of The Thoughts And Feelings That I Cannot Express To Anyone; But, Beyond This, I Am Anxious To Make Some Record Of The Strange Things That I Have Heard And Seen, During Many Years Of Loneliness, In This Weird Old Building.

For A Couple Of Centuries, This House Has Had A Reputation, A Bad One, And, Until I Bought It, For More Than Eighty Years No One Had Lived Here; Consequently, I Got The Old Place At A Ridiculously Low Figure.

I Am Not Superstitious; But I Have Ceased To Deny That Things Happen In This Old House--Things That I Cannot Explain; And, Therefore, I Must Needs Ease My Mind, By Writing Down An Account Of Them, To The Best Of My Ability; Though, Should This, My Diary, Ever Be Read When I Am Gone, The Readers Will But Shake Their Heads, And Be The More Convinced That I Was Mad.

This House, How Ancient It Is! Though Its Age Strikes One Less, Perhaps, Than The Quaintness Of Its Structure, Which Is Curious And Fantastic To The Last Degree. Little Curved Towers And Pinnacles, With Outlines Suggestive Of Leaping Flames, Predominate; While The Body Of The Building Is In The Form Of A Circle.

I Have Heard That There Is An Old Story, Told Amongst The Country People, To The Effect That The Devil Built The Place. However, That Is As May Be. True Or Not, I Neither Know Nor Care, Save As It May Have Helped To Cheapen It, Ere I Came.

I Must Have Been Here Some Ten Years Before I Saw Sufficient To Warrant Any Belief In The Stories, Current In The Neighborhood, About This House. It Is True That I Had, On At Least A Dozen Occasions, Seen, Vaguely, Things That Puzzled Me, And, Perhaps, Had Felt More Than I Had Seen. Then, As The Years Passed, Bringing Age Upon Me, I Became Often Aware Of Something Unseen, Yet Unmistakably Present, In The Empty Rooms And Corridors. Still, It Was As I Have Said Many Years Before I Saw Any Real Manifestations Of The So-Called Supernatural.

It Was Not Halloween. If I Were Telling A Story For Amusement’s Sake, I Should Probably Place It On That Night Of Nights; But This Is A True Record Of My Own Experiences, And I Would Not Put Pen To Paper To Amuse Anyone. No. It Was After Midnight On The Morning Of The Twenty-First Day Of January. I Was Sitting Reading, As Is Often My Custom, In My Study. Pepper Lay, Sleeping, Near My Chair.

Without Warning, The Flames Of The Two Candles Went Low, And Then Shone With A Ghastly Green Effulgence. I Looked Up, Quickly, And As I Did So I Saw The Lights Sink Into A Dull, Ruddy Tint; So That The Room Glowed With A Strange, Heavy, Crimson Twilight That Gave The Shadows Behind The Chairs And Tables A Double Depth Of Blackness; And Wherever The Light Struck, It Was As Though Luminous Blood Had Been Splashed Over The Room.

Down On The Floor, I Heard A Faint, Frightened Whimper, And Something Pressed Itself In Between My Two Feet. It Was Pepper, Cowering Under My Dressing Gown. Pepper, Usually As Brave As A Lion!

It Was This Movement Of The Dog’s, I Think, That Gave Me The First Twinge Of Real Fear. I Had Been Considerably Startled When The Lights Burnt First Green And Then Red; But Had Been Momentarily Under The Impression That The Change Was Due To Some Influx Of Noxious Gas Into The Room. Now, However, I Saw That It Was Not So; For The Candles Burned With A Steady Flame, And Showed No Signs Of Going Out, As Would Have Been The Case Had The Change Been Due To Fumes In The Atmosphere.

I Did Not Move. I Felt Distinctly Frightened; But Could Think Of Nothing Better To Do Than Wait. For Perhaps A Minute, I Kept My Glance About The Room, Nervously. Then I Noticed That The Lights Had Commenced To Sink, Very Slowly; Until Presently They Showed Minute Specks Of Red Fire, Like The Gleamings Of Rubies In The Darkness. Still, I Sat Watching; While A Sort Of Dreamy Indifference Seemed To Steal Over Me; Banishing Altogether The Fear That Had Begun To Grip Me.

Away In The Far End Of The Huge Old-Fashioned Room, I Became Conscious Of A Faint Glow. Steadily It Grew, Filling The Room With Gleams Of Quivering Green Light; Then They Sank Quickly, And Changed--Even As The Candle Flames Had Done--Into A Deep, Somber Crimson That Strengthened, And Lit Up The Room With A Flood Of Awful Glory.

The Light Came From The End Wall, And Grew Ever Brighter Until Its Intolerable Glare Caused My Eyes Acute Pain, And Involuntarily I Closed Them. It May Have Been A Few Seconds Before I Was Able To Open Them. The First Thing I Noticed Was That The Light Had Decreased, Greatly; So That It No Longer Tried My Eyes. Then, As It Grew Still Duller, I Was Aware, All At Once, That, Instead Of Looking At The Redness, I Was Staring Through It, And Through The Wall Beyond.