Chapter 7
I
Andthus the affair moved nearer to its close. The theory and practice of moldingform by means of sound was the next bang at his mind--delivered in theclergyman's most convincing manner, and, in view of the proofs that soonfollowed, an experience that seemed to dislocate the very foundations of hisvisible world, deemed hitherto secure enough at least to stand on.
Hadit all consisted merely of talk on Mr. Skale's part the secretary would haveknown better what to think. It was the interludes of practical proof that senthis judgment so awry. These definite, sensible results, sandwiched in betweenall the visionary explanation, left him utterly at sea. He could not reconcilethem altogether with hypnotism. He could only, as an ordinary man, already witha bias in the mystical direction, come to the one conclusion that thisoverwhelming and hierophantic man was actually in touch with cisterns of forceso terrific as to be dangerous to what he had hitherto understood to be--life.It was easy enough for the clergyman, in his optimistic enthusiasm, to talkabout their leading to a larger life. But what if the experiment failed, andthese colossal powers ran amok upon the world--and upon the invokers?
Moreover--chiefanxiety of all--what was this name to be experimented with? What was the natureof this force that Skale hoped to invoke--so mighty that it should make them"as gods," so terrible that a chord alone could compass even thefirst of its stupendous syllables?
And,further, he was still haunted with the feeling that other "beings"occupied certain portions of the rambling mansion, and more than once recentlyhe had wakened in the night with an idea, carried over from dreams possibly,that the corridor outside his bedroom was moving and alive with footsteps."From dreams possibly," for when he went and peered shivering throughthe narrow crack of the half-opened door, he saw nothing unusual. And anothertime--he was awake beyond question at the moment, for he had been reading tilltwo o'clock and had but just extinguished the candle--he had heard a sound thathe found impossible to describe, but that sent all the blood with a swift rushfrom the region of his heart. It was not wind; it was not the wood crackingwith the frost; it was not snow sliding from the slates outside. It wassomething that simultaneously filled the entire building, yet soundedparticularly loud just outside his door; and it came with the abrupt suddennessof a report. It made him think of all the air in the rooms and halls and passagesbeing withdrawn by immense suction, as though a gigantic dome had been droppedover the building in order to produce a vacuum. And just after it he heard,unmistakably, the long soft stride of Skale going past his door and down thewhole length of the corridor--stealthily, very quickly, with the hurry ofanxiety or alarm in his silence and his speed.
This,moreover, had now happened twice, so that imagination seemed a far-fetchedexplanation. And on both occasions the clergyman had remained invisible on theday following until the evening, and had then reappeared, quiet and as usual,but with an atmosphere of immense vibratory force somehow about his person, anda glow in his face and eyes that at moments seemed positively colored.
Noword of explanation, however, had as yet been forthcoming of these omens, andSpinrobin waited with what patience he could, meanwhile, for the final testwhich he knew to be close upon him. And in his diary, the pages usually leftblank now because words failed him, he wrote a portion of Anone's cry that hadcaught his memory and expressed a little of what he felt:
... for fiery thoughts
Do shape themselves within me, moreand more,
Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear
Dead sounds at night come from theinmost hills,
''Like footsteps upon wool''....
II
Itwas within three days of the expiration of his trial month that he then hadthis conversation with the clergyman, which he understood quite well wasoffered by way of preparation for the bigger tests about to come. He hasreported what he could of it; it seemed to him at the time both plausible andabsurd; it was of a piece, that is, with the rest of the whole fabulousadventure.
Mr.Skale, as they walked over the snowy moors in the semi-darkness between tea anddinner, had been speaking to him about the practical results obtainable bysound-vibrations (what he already knew for that matter), and how it is possibleby fiddling long enough upon a certain note to fiddle down a bridge and splitit asunder. From that he passed on to the scientific fact that the ultimatemolecules of matter are not only in constant whirring motion, but that alsothey do not actually touch one another. The atoms composing the point of a pin,for instance, shift and change without ceasing, and--there is space betweenthem.
Then,suddenly taking Spinrobin's arm, he came closer, his booming tone dropping to awhisper:
"Tochange the form of anything," he said in his ear, "is merely tochange the arrangement of those dancing molecules, to alter their rate ofvibration." His eyes, even in the obscurity of the dusk, went across theother's face like flames.
"Bymeans of sound?" asked the other, already beginning to feel eerie.
Theclergyman nodded his great head in acquiescence.
"Justas the vibrations of heat-waves," he said after a pause, "can alterthe form of a metal by melting it, so the vibrations of sound can alter theform of a thing by inserting themselves between those whirling molecules andchanging their speed and arrangement--change the outline, that is."
Theidea seemed fairly to buffet the little secretary in the face, but Mr. Skale'sproximity was too overpowering to permit of very clear thinking. Feeling that aremark was expected from him, he managed to ejacul*te an obvious objection inhis mind.
"Butis there any sound that can produce vibrations fine and rapidenough--to--er--accomplish such a result?"
Mr.Skale appeared almost to leap for pleasure as he heard it. In reality he merelystraightened himself up.
"That,"he cried aloud, to the further astonishment and even alarm of his companion,"is another part of my discovery--an essential particular of it: theproduction of sound-vibrations fine and rapid enough to alter shapes! Listenand I will tell you!" He lowered his voice again. "I have found outthat by uttering the true inner name of anything I can set in motionharmonics--harmonics, note well, half the wave length and twice thefrequency!--that are delicate and swift enough to insert themselves between thewhirling molecules of any reasonable object--any object, I mean, not tooclosely or coherently packed. By then swelling or lowering my voice I can alterthe scale, size or shape of that object almost indefinitely, its partsnevertheless retaining their normal relative proportions. I can scatter it to ahuge scale by separating its molecules indefinitely, or bring them so closelytogether that the size of the object would be reduced to a practicalinvisibility!"
"Re-createthe world, in fact!" gasped Spinrobin, feeling the earth he knew slippingaway under his feet.
Mr.Skale turned upon him and stood still a moment. The huge moors, glimmering paleand unreal beneath their snow, ran past them into the sky--silent formscorresponding to who knows what pedal notes? The wind sighed--audibleexpression of who shall say what mighty shapes?... Something of the passion ofsound, with all its mystery and splendor, entered his heart in that windy sigh.Was anything real? Was anything permanent?... Were Sound and Form merely interchangeablesymbols of some deeper uncataloged Reality? And was the visible cohesion afterall the illusory thing?
"Re-moldthe whole universe, sir!" he roared through the darkness, in a way thatmade the other wish for the touch of Miriam's hand to steady him. "I couldmake you, my dear Spinrobin, immense, tiny, invisible, or by a partialutterance of your name, permanently crooked. I could overwhelm your ownvibrations and withdraw their force, as by suction of a vacuum, absorbingyourself into my own being. By uttering the name of this old earth, if I knewit, I could alter its face, toss the forests like green dust into the sea, andlift the pebbles of the seashore to the magnitude of moons! Or, did I know thetrue name of the sun, I could utter it in such a way as to identify myself withits very being, and so escape the pitiful terrors of a limited personal existence!"
Heseized his companion's arm and began to stride down the mountainside at aterrific pace, almost lifting Spinrobin from his feet as he did so. About theears of the panting secretary the wild words tore like bullets, whistling a newand dreadful music.
"Mydear fellow," he shouted through the night, "at the Word of Power ofa true man the nations would rush into war, or sink suddenly into eternalpeace; the mountains be moved into the sea, and the dead arise. To know thesounds behind the manifestations of Nature, the names of mechanical as well asof psychical Forces, of Hebrew angels, as of Christian virtues, is to knowPowers that you can call upon at will--and use! Utter them in the truevibratory way and you waken their counterpart in yourself and stir thus mightypsychic powers into activity in your Soul."
Herained the words down upon the other's head like a tempest.
"Canyou wonder that the walls of Jericho fell flat before a 'Sound,' or that theraging waves of the sea lay still before a voice that called their Name? Mydiscovery, Mr. Spinrobin, will run through the world like a purifying fire. Forto utter the true names of individuals, families, tribes and nations, will beto call them to the knowledge of their highest Selves, and to lift them intotune with the music of the Voice of God."
Theyreached the front door, where the gleam of lamps shone with a homely welcomethrough the glass panels. The clergyman released his companion's arm; then bentdown towards him and added in a tone that held in it for the first timesomething of the gravity of death:
"Onlyremember--that to utter falsely, to pronounce incorrectly, to call a nameincompletely, is the beginning of all evil. For it is to lie with the verysoul. It is also to evoke forces without the adequate corresponding shape thatcovers and controls them, and to attract upon yourself the destructivequalities of these Powers--to your own final disintegration andannihilation."
Spinrobinentered the house, filled with a sense of awe that was cold and terrible, andgreater than all his other sensations combined. The winds of fear and ruin blewshrill about his naked soul. None the less he was steadfast. He would remain tobless. Mr. Skale might be violent in mind, unbalanced, possibly mad; but hismadness thundered at the doors of heaven, and the sound of that thunderingcompleted the conquest of his admiration. He really believed that when the endcame those mighty doors would actually open. And the thought woke a kind ofelemental terror in him that was not of this world--yet marvelously attractive.
III
Thatnight the singular rushing sound again disturbed him. It seemed as before topass through the entire building, but this time it included a greater space inits operations, for he fancied he could hear it outside the house as well,traveling far up into the recesses of the dark mountains. Like the sweep ofimmense draughts of air it went down the passage and rolled on into the sky,making him think of the clergyman's suggestion that some sounds might requireairwaves of a hundred miles instead of a few inches, too vast to be heard assound. And shortly after it followed the great gliding stride of Mr. Skalehimself down the corridor. That, at least, was unmistakable.
Duringthe following day, moreover, Mr. Skale remained invisible. Spinrobin, ofcourse, had never permitted himself to search the house, or even to examine theother rooms in his own corridor. The quarters where Miriam slept were equallyunknown to him. But he was quite certain that these prolonged periods ofabsence were spent by the clergyman in some remote part of the ramblingbuilding where there existed isolated, if not actually secret, rooms in whichhe practiced the rituals of some dangerous and intrepid worship. And theseintimidating and mysterious sounds at night were, of course, something to dowith the forces he conjured....
Theday was still and windless, the house silent as the grave. He walked about thehills during the afternoon, practicing his Hebrew "Names" and"Words" like a schoolboy learning a lesson. And all about him theslopes of mountain watched him, listening. So did the sheet of snow, shining inthe wintry sunlight. The clergyman seemed to have put all sound in his pocketand taken it away with him. The absence of anything approaching noise becamealmost oppressive. It was a Silence that prepares. Spinrobin went about ontiptoe, spoke to Miriam in whispers, practiced his Names in hushed, expectanttones. He almost expected to see the moors and mountains open their deep sidesand let the Sounds of which they were the visible shape escape awfully abouthim....
Inthese hours of solitude, all that Skale had told him, and more still that hedivined himself, haunted him with a sense of disquieting reality. Inaudiblesounds of fearful volume, invisible forms of monstrous character, combinationsof both even, impended everywhere about him. He became afraid lest he mightstumble, as Skale had done, on the very note that should release them and bringthem howling, leaping, crashing about his ears. Therefore, he tried to makehimself as small as possible; he muffled steps and voice and personality. If hecould, he would have completely disappeared.
Helooked forward to Skale's return, but when evening came he was still alone, andhe dined tete-a-tete with Miriam for the first time. And she, too, he noticed,was unusually quiet. Almost they seemed to have entered the world of Mrs.Mawle, the silent regions of the deaf. But for the most part it is probable thatthese queer impressions were due to the unusual state of Spinrobin'simagination. He knew that it was his last night in the place--unless theclergyman accepted him; he knew also that Mr. Skale had absented himself with apurpose, and that the said purpose had to do with the test of Alteration ofForms by Sound, which would surely be upon him before the sun rose. So that,one way and another, it was natural enough that his nerves should have beensomewhat overtaxed.
Thepresence of Miriam and Mrs. Mawle, however, did much to soothe him. The latter,indeed, mothered the pair of them quite absurdly, smiling all the time whileshe moved about softly with the dishes, and doing her best to make them eatenough for four. Between courses she sat at the end of the room, waiting in theshadows till Miriam beckoned to her, and once or twice going so far as to puther hand upon Spinrobin's shoulder protectively.
Hisown mind, however, all the time was full of charging visions. He kept thinkingof the month just past and of the amazing changes it had brought into histhoughts. He realized, too, now that Mr. Skale was away, something of thelonely and splendid courage of the man, following this terrific, perhaps mad,ideal, day in day out, week in week out, for twenty years and more, his faithnever weakening, his belief undaunted. Waves of pity, too, invaded him for thefirst time--pity for this sweet girl, brought up in ignorance of any otherpossible world; pity for the deaf old housekeeper, already partially broken,and both sacrificed to the dominant idea of this single, heaven-climbingenthusiast; pity last of all for himself, swept headlong before he had time toreflect, into the audacious purpose of this violent and headstrong super-man.
Allmanner of emotions stirred now this last evening in his perplexed breast; yetout of the general turmoil one stood forth more clearly than the rest--hisproud consciousness that he was taking an important part in something reallybig at last. Behind the screen of thought and emotion which veiled sopuzzlingly the truth, he divined for the first time in his career a goldensplendor. If it also terrified him, that was only his cowardice.... In the sameway it might be splendid to jump into Niagara just above the falls to snatch apassing flower that seemed more wonderful than any he had seen before, but--!
"Miriam,tomorrow is my last day," he said suddenly, catching her grey eyes uponhim in the middle of his strange reflections. "Tonight may be my lastnight in this house with you."
Thegirl made no reply, merely looking up and smiling at him. But the singingsensation that usually accompanied her gaze was not present.
"Thatwas very nearly--a discord," she observed presently, referring to hisremark. "It was out of tune!" And he realized with a touch of shamewhat she meant. For it was not true that this was his last evening; he knewreally that he would stay on and that Mr. Skale would accept him. Quick as aflash, with her simple intuition, she felt that he had said this merely to coaxfrom her some sign of sympathy or love. And the girl was not to be drawn. Sheknew quite well that she held him and that their fate, whatever it might be,lay together.
Thegentle rebuke made him silent again. They sat there smiling at one anotheracross the table, and old Mrs. Mawle, sitting among the shadows at the far endof the room, her hands crossed in front of her, her white evening cap shininglike a halo above her patient face, watched them, also smiling. The rest of thestrange meal passed without conversation, for the great silence that all dayhad wrapped the hills seemed to have invaded the house as well and laid itsspell upon every room. A deep hush, listening and expectant, dropped more and moreabout the building and about themselves.
Afterdinner they sat for twenty minutes together before the library fire, their toesupon the fender, for, contrary to her habit, Miriam had not vanished at once toher own quarters.
"We'renot alone here," remarked Spinrobin presently, in a low voice, and shenodded her head to signify agreement. The presence of Mr. Skale when he was inthe house but invisible, was often more real and tremendous than when he stoodbeside them and thundered. Some part of him, some emanation, some potentpsychic messenger from his personality, kept them closely company, and tonightthe secretary felt it very vividly. His remark was really another effort tokeep in close touch with Miriam, even in thought. He needed her more than everin this sea of silence that was gathering everywhere about him. Gulf upon gulfit rose and folded over him. His anxiety became every moment more acute, andthose black serpents of fear that he dreaded were not very far away. By everyfiber in his being he felt certain that a test which should shake the veryfoundations of his psychical life was slowly and remorselessly approaching him.
Yet,though he longed to speak outright and demand of Miriam what she knew, andespecially that she should reveal the place of the clergyman's concealment andwhat portent it was that required all this dread and muted atmosphere for itspreparation, he kept a seal upon his lips, realizing that loyalty forbade, andthat the knowledge of her contempt would be even worse than the knowledge ofthe truth.
Andso in due course she rose to go, and as he opened the door for her into thehall, she paused a moment and turned towards him. A sudden inexplicable thrillflashed through him as she turned her eyes upon his face, for he thought atfirst she was about to speak. He has never forgotten the picture as she stoodthere so close to his side, the lamplight on her slim figure in its white silkblouse and neat dark skirt, the gloom of the unlit hall and staircasebeyond--stood there an instant, then put both her arms about his neck, drew himdown to her, and kissed him gently on both cheeks. Twice she kissed him, thenwas gone into the darkness, so softly that he scarcely heard her steps, and hestood between the shadows and the light, her perfume still lingering, and withit the sweet and magical blessing that she left behind. For that caress, heunderstood, was the innocent childlike caress of their first days, and with allthe power of her loving little soul in it she had given him the message that hecraved: "Courage! And keep a brave heart, dear Spinny, tonight!"
