The Room of Eternal Night.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 305, 23 December 1903, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Room of Eternal Night.

By HARRIS BURLAND. (Author of " Dacobra," etc.)

I spent the Christmas of 1899 at Lypiatt Great. House with James P. Monaghan, ex-cowboy and millionaire. He had been an intimate friend of my father's, and 1 had known all the family from my boyhood. The house party \as i select one, too select, indeed, for my 9wn tastes, which verge on the Bohemian. It certainly included one duke, , and a very renowned politician, while commoners like myself were so scarce fes to be almost sought after. 1 A right good fellow was James P. j Monaghan, small, keen, and wiry as a terrier, a gentleman at heart, but a trine brusque and overbearing in his j manner as all men are who have fought j their way to the top. He had made i an enormous fortune in oil, and preferring to end his days in the comparative I peace of England, had purchased Lypi- j att Great House from the executors of the last. Lord of Lypintt, and had set- \ tied down to the life of an English j country gentleman. His success had been complete and instantaneous. His : riding was a revelation to those who j had never seen a Texan cowboy break [ in a buck jumper, and from the day that young Lord Partington saw him picking off swallows with a revolver, he was asked to every shooting party in the county. But ,ie pandered to none of the prejudice.-, of a somewhat oldfashioned aristocracy. He made friends with many outside the pale of society. He installed electric light into the Great House. He hunted in a costume only fit for the prairies of Texas, and, worst of all, he once shot a fox that had killed nine and twenty of his finest fowls. Such was the man who will, if yon jare to ask him. bear witness to so strange and inexplicable an occurrence that I scarcely dare to put it down as a fact on my own authority. James P. Monaghan will corroborate every word I write, and I would have younote that he was a hard-hearted American, with an absolute contempt for all forms of superstition, and without a grain of imagination in his whole character. On New Year's Eve, a week after my arrival, there was a ball at the Great House. It was more than an ordinary occasion* for Cynthia Monaghan, the only daughter of our host, was to come out from the semi-seclusion of her school room, and bring— little Cynthia hoped—the whole of Stormshire to her

feet. It is impossible to describe Cynthia to any ordinary mortal. From the age of" ten, and even earlier, she had always been indescribable. It is sufficient" to say that she was very beautiful, very American, very piquant and charming, from which description and from the fact that 1 am unable to particularise her charms, an intelligent reader will guess that I was in love with her. There was no understanding between us. We were old friends, but no more, and I think she was too much of a child to read the secret of my eyes. But on this particular night I had resolved to make some efforts to ndvance my hopes. I was not ineligible, even for the daughter of a millionaire. I am a distant relation of the aged Earl of Portmannock, and win eventually succeed to the title. I a fair share of this world's go. «, and hope 9B« day id inherit a third of a county. 9*9 fa!tw« had '»«<-'« MS !«te friends, Ovntlna. heYMlf *« the c 5J difficulty, una 1 Want 1? discover if this was m ~c. f had no intention of frightening -'• m,!'" of love, but I was flV.enmuea 1" make her understand what was in ny ' IMlt ' Cynthia looked her loveliest on that right, and was sufficiently bewitc.iing ,nd provoking to drive a lover mad. Ja ,ad two dances together in the earlier part of the programme, and I baa thrown so much tenderness into my speech and manner that no reasonable girl eowM have helped noticing the chancre, and being deeply affected by it. But the effect on Cynthia was discourn!r ;n« She asked what was the matter with mc, and when I looked as passionately as I could into her eyes she did not'blush or look on the ground as she oueht to have done, but merely laughed in my face and "aid she knew the lobiter omelette we had for dinner was enough to daze any man. I laughed back at her and asked her to look after mc at supper, as it was evident I was not to be trusted with so much food on the table. I was baffled for the moment, but only spurred to fresh efforts. There would be plenty of time and opportunity at supper, and half a glass of champagne would work wonders. But before supper came, an event happened which put a sudden end to the festivities, sent all the guests away with horror-stricken faces, and filled

mc with a greater fear than I have ever experienced in my whole life. We were dancing the Lancers, and Cynthia had as a partner Bobbie (sometimes Sir Robert) Cordillion, a man who weighed over eighteen stone, and could not find a hunter in the county to carry him. I was in the same set, and spent half my time in looking at Bobbie's efforts to combine swiftness with accuracy, and at Cynthia's energetic struggles to sleer him into the right place. "My arms are breaking," she whispered as she passed mc, and I could well believe it. Few girls could have borne the strain so long. The crisis came at last. The set wal swinging round like a top. The centrifugal force was terrific. I looked anxiously at Bobbie who was moving like a runaway traction engine. At least three people had their hands on his wrist or coat sleeve. But nothing on earth could resist that terrible strain. There was a sudden rip of cloth and linen, Cynthia and another girl were filing on their faces, -the rest were tumbled together in unutterable confusion, and out of the melee, like a bolt from some ancient mangonel, shot Bobbie Cordillion. He was only six feet from the wall when the catastrophe occurred, and he came against the panels iik? a cruiser ramming an oak three decker. There was a loud thud and the crack of wood. Half the panel (lew inwards and fell nattering on to a stone floor beyond. ! Bobbie bounded back with a groan and aegan to ~:b his arm. The set stooped ThL FT"!* roarrd viA laughter. I the l,n, a '?°' /en ° us cowled round the hog and Vwd into the darkness. I inrl , 2 '? me h " ri Tlnfr across the hall j A wwet hiding place," said Cynthia

"Discovered by Sir Robert Cordillion — quite accidentally," and she turned to her partner with a mocking little smile. "Let mc see," said Monaghan, and we made way for him. He looked into the hole, which was as dark as pitch, and smiled dubiously. We all chattered round the opening for a few minutes, and made various conjectures about -the secret chamber, but no one entered it. I think they had too much regard for their clothes. Then the music of the next dance struck up, and people drifted off to find their partners. I, Monaghan, I Cynthia and Bobbie Cordillion were the 'only ones who retained any curiosity I for the broken panel, and I think the lat- ; ter only lingered for decency's sake. "Smells musty," said Monaghan. I "Have you a match?" j I handed him my box. He struck one of the matches and thrust his hand into 1 the darkness. The flame disappeared as [though it had been plunged into a bowl of water. He took his hand out again and looked at mc enquiringly. "Carbonic acid gas," 1 said. ' "M'yes," he said. "Cynthia, where's your partner for this dance?" I "Oh my, it's the Duke," she cried, 'looking at her programme. "I wouldn't miss him for fifty secret chambers," and she went off to find his grace, who was probably enjoying a cigarette in some

remote part of the house, and entirely forgetful of all obligations. "Very sorry to have opened such a beastly hole," said Bobbie apologetically. "Anything I can do? Will mend it tomorrow with pleasure." "Don't worry," replied Monaghan, and Bobbie made off. When he had gone my host turned to mc with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Odd about that light," he said. "Not at all," I answered. "Lots of places that have been shut up for a long time are like that." "I am afraid, Stewart," he said, "You didn't observe very carefully. Look again." And striking another match he again thrust his hand into the darkness. The same thing happened. The light went out. But this time I noticed, with a start, that a truly extraordinary thing had happened. Not only had the light gone out, but the match, j the hand that held it, the shirt sleeve, ; the coat almost up to the elbow had all i disappeared. They had a7l gone out 1 like -the flame. Monaghan's arm was I cut off at the edge of the panelling, as I though it had been thrust into a pool of ink.

"Great Scott," I exclaimed. "This is indeed darkness." "Stand aside from the aperture," said Monaghan. 1 did so, and we let the full radiance of the ballroom lit with eight hundred incandescent lights stream into the hole. 1 thrust my arm round the corner, and looked at it. I could see nothing. Then Monaghan grasped the panelling on either side of the opening, aud leaned as far into the darkness as he could. I heard him draw a deep breath. Then he withdrew his head. "The air is all right," he said, "it wouldn't hurt a baby with delicate lungs. Well, anyway, I guess this can wait till the morning," and, stooping down, he groped for the pieces of panelling, which had fallen on the floor inside. To our surprise, he could not find it, though he went on his knees, and reached out at least a yard into the darkness. He looked like a man whose body has been cut in half. "It's no use," he said, "Sir Robert's weight must have sent it right away ; from the wall," and he crawled back out | of the hole. His hands were black with I dust. Then I had a try, and my at- '■ tempts were equally unsuccessful. I could feel nothing but a stone floor. "Come along, Stewart," he said. "We can find it in the morning. We have something better to do now." I came back to the light, and we returned to our duties in the ballroom. The dance was just over, and we crossed the room to make apologies to our neglected partners. As I reached the | oilier side I looked back and saw Cynthia and the Duke standing by the ■ broken panel. She was laughing merrily and apparently enticing the Duke to crawl through the hole. Two or three 1 others came up to them, and the whole group were chattering and peering into | the darkness. Then I saw Cynthia gathering up her skirt, and suddenly \ changed my mind about finding my partner. I hurriedly retraced my steps ! across the room, but I was too late. Full , of mischief, and caring as little for her

costly ball dress as a child for its Sunday frock, she stepped into the opening, and disappeared from view. "Cynthia," I cried angrily, and half the room turned round to look at mc. For a moment the golden head thrust itself out from the darkness, and there was a merry laugh from her lips. Then she vanished as though she had been blotted out. I made my way through the group of chatterers, and looked into that well of night with a white face and anxious eyes. 1 might as well have looked into a blackboard. I could hear her footsteps ! and the rustle of her skirts, but the [ sound was a long way off. ! "Cynthia," 1 cried. "Come out of ; this place at once, it is not safe." | There was no answer, and the rustle ' and footsteps suddenly stopped. Then Iwe heard a scream, and a second or two i later a faint thud, such as a man might make by striking a cushion lightly with his hand. Then there was complete siI lence. All the spectators were now thoroughly frightened. Monaghan came up, and, 'caring nothing for Dukes, nor Countesses, pushed his way through the crowd that had now collect 51. "Cynthia," I said hurriedly, "She is in there," ] "Little fool," he exclaimed sharply. [ Then he stepped through the opening and ! disappeared. "Cynthia," he cried. "You ! come out of this place at once or there'll be trouble." There was no reply, and we heard him move across the stone floor. "Why. doesn't he strike a light?" said the Duke. 1 did not answer him. It was no time for explanations of the incredible. j We listened to the footsteps, circling 1 round and round, now sounding loud and now faint. He was evidently keeping his

hand on the wall. Then the rhythm of the movements changed, and he was apparently crossing and recrossing the floor. From the sounds it was evidently not a passage, but a room. Every minute we heard the muffled cry of "Cynthia, Cynthia." But no voice replied. ' After a few minutes Monghan emerged into the light. His face was very pale, and he was covered with dust from head : to foot. The whole assembly was now gathered round the broken panel. He laced them with a wild look in his eyes. "This is a serious matter," he said hurriedly. "I am sure you will excuse mc if 1 end the dance. I trust you will all have some supper before you go." Then he went among them and wished them good-night, after which they broke up into little groups, the women chattering to one another in frightened whispers, the men silent and uncomfortable. In a few minutes the room was empty, for Monaghan had asked even his house party to leave him, assuring i them that they could offer him no assistance. When the last person had gone he rang the bell, and a fojtman enterted. "Go to the gardener's at once, James," he said, "and get mc an axe, or two, if you can find them." The man left the room. "I guess we'll have ail that panelling down in ten minutes," he continued, turning to mc. "1 would rather we two did it by ourselves. God knows what we shall hnd." And a terrible expression crossed his keen, strong face. "Did you find anything?" I asked. "I found nothing," he replied, "not even the pieces of panelling. The room is, as far as I can judge, about twenty feet square. I walked round it several times, and crossed and re-crossed it in very direction. I could scarcely have missed a small object on the floor, and certainly not — a body. The walls and floor are of solid stone. I felt the entire surface with my hands on the chance of finding some other panel through which she might have passed, or trap door through which she had fallen. There was nothing but stone. I stamped with my feet, and beat with my hands all over the surface. It was like solid rock. There was not a hollow sound in any part of it. lam completely baffled. Have you anything to suggest?" j "It is possible she may have slipped out somehow," I answered thoughtfully. I Then I recalled the faint scream and the thud. Monaghan had not heard these sounds, and no one had dared to tell him of them. In my own mind I bad no doubt that the girl was still there, and that her lather had. missed her in the darkness. It is easy for a person who thinks he has crossed every inch of a room in tue dark to avoid al-

most half of it. For a minute or two we were silent, puzzling our brains for some possible solution of the mystery. Then the footman entered with an axe in either hand. Monaghan took them from him and gave one to mc. The footman stood as though expecting further orders. "You can go, James," said my host, and when the man bad gone he crossed the room, and, locking D»» door, returned to mc.

"Now, Stewart," he said, "we must have it all down." We both set to work with a will, and in less than a quarter of an hour we had stripped the whole side of the hidden room of its fine old panelling from floor to ceiling, and laid it bare to the blaze of the electric light. The extraordinary phenomenon of the darkness was now made still more apparent. Under ordinary circumstances the whole of the chamber would have been almost as light as the ball room itself. But it was still a dark and impenetrable wall, absolutely indefinable as to substance, yet as definite in colour as black velvet. Monaghan looked at it in silence, and then broke into a harsh laugh. "I believe we are both going mad," he said, drily. "Did you ever see anything like that before?" "No," I answered, "but I am going to see a good deal of it before I have finished," and I stepped right through the wall of gloom, half expecting, as I did so, to encounter something solid, and come crashing back to the ball room floor. Directly I found myself inside the room I turned round to speak to MonaI ghan. But he had vanished. Lights, j ball room, and every single thing had I disappeared. There was nothing but j —darkness so Intense and ab- ! solute that I might have been buried I four hundred fathoms under the earth. j Yet I was less than a foot from a flood of dazzling light. j The sensation of absolute darkness i was at first curious, especially when I I struck a match and could see no flame. But I made my way to the wall, and, passing my hand along it, soon got used ito the gloom. I walked all round, and j across the floor several times, but en- [ countered nothing. It struck mc as

curious that I had not come across any ! of the panelling, for in our haste we had driven at least half of it into the room itself. Then I came out to the light, and Monaghan and I both returned to the search. We went in, one on each side, and agreed to walk along the wall in opposite directions. We did this, and talked to each other all the time. I heard his voice come

nearer and nearer, until it sounded i right in my ear. Then it grew a little fainter and he had evidently passed mc. "Did you keep your hand en the wall, Monaghan?" I said. "Yesl" he answered, didn't you ?" "I did," I replied, for I had not taken ,my fingers from the stone. "One of us —is mistaken," Monaghan said. "We must have met if we were both touching the wall. Where are you now?" I did not answer him. A sudden idea had struck mc and was overwhelming mc with its horror. I hurriedly made my way back into the light, and called to my companion. He emerged in a few seconds like a fly from an ink pot. "Did you really keep your hand on the wall all the time?" I asked. "Yes," he replied, with a slight frown. "Well, I swear that I kept my ha id

on the wall." "Anyhow you passed mc," said Monaghan. "No," I answered slowly and with emphasis, "I did not pass you, Monaghan, I passed through you." "Through mc?" he repeated. "Through mc! What's the matter with you, Stewart? Have you been drinking?" "Look here," I said, and taking his hand in mine I thrust both of them into the darkness. The result was precisely | as I expected. Though I never let go of his hand my fingers suddenly grasped nothing and closed on my empty palm. I He evidently had the same experience, ! for he withdrew his hand sharply, and I did the same, and as both our hands came out together I felt the curious , Bensation of my fingers being suddenly filled with something, and forced open, and looking down 1 saw that our hands were once more clasped together. "What the devil does it all mean?" he said. ; J "I don't profess to understand it," I answered, "but it explains why we found no fragments of the panelling inside the room. We simply walked through them." I stopped and watched the effect of my words on his face. His lips twitched, and he grasped mc by the arm. "Then Cynthia!" he cried. i "Yes," I said, "Cynthia's disappearance is explained. She is still in there, and our feet have probably passed through her body a dozen times." I "But why has she not spoken, and why has she not come out? We could hear each other speak, and we could move about at our will." , "She has probably fainted," I said, and I told him of the scream and of the thud we had heard. "When she comes to her sense she will be all right. It must have been a terrible shock to her when she first turned round and saw that there was no light streaming through the opening in the panel, and that she was buried in that unutterable darkness. 1 was pretty staj-tled myeelf. One can imagine how a girl would move hastily to and fro, how she would strike the wall, bow she would grasp at the empty air, far too terrified to reaeon out a mode of escape, and too weak to stand the nervous etrain for more than a minute or two. You and I both knew what to expect, but she looked upon it as- nothing but an ordinary room." "She must be saved from a second shock," Monaghan said hurriedly. "That will be easy," I replied. "Now that we know the facts we can find out her whereabouts. Sounds appears to be one of the senses left to us in this place. We can neither see nor feol, but we can hear. If we listen carefully we shall doubtless be able to hear her breathing. We can both be close to her when she revives, and at once get her out to the light. "Can't we get her out before she cornea round?" "Impossible," I answered. "The very nature of the case makes it impossibleRemember that while she is there she is intangible. Let us find her, that's all we can do."

We both returned into the darkness, fell on our hands and knees, and moved across the stone floor in all directions. After five minutes search I heard the very faint sound of breathing, and by carefully listening I located as nearly as possible the position of her lips, I am ashamed to say that I kissed the place more than once. There was little harm in kissing the empty air, and it was even ridiculous, but ft gave mc as much satisfaction as the kisses which lovers send to one another in letters, and I felt guilty in proportion to the pleasure of it. Then I heard a deep sigh, and rose to my knees, and a moment later a faint voice cried out, "Where am IT Where am IT Oh I" and she gave a terrified shriek. "Cynthia," I said quickly, "it is all right, I am here, close to you. The electric light has gone wrong. That Is allHow do you feel?" "Is that you Dick," «he said, then she laughed. "Oh, I am real glad. How silly of mc to faint. I remember now. The darkness! Am I still in the hidden room?" "We axe both here," I answered, "and

your father is close by." Monaghan spoke a few words to her, and she answered him. "I am going to get some food and champagne," he said. "You take her out. Stewart. You seem to understand , this business better than I do." We were left alone, and once more I kissed the place where I thought her | lips might be. She heard the faint ; sound. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Nothing," I answered with some I truth, for it was very little more. "Where are you?" she cried. "Give ■ mc your hand. I don't believe you are anything more than a ghost, and that ■ I am dead" j "I cannot give you my hand," I ani swererl foolish. "Because you couldn't i take it if I did. I will explain all when I we get out of this room. Will you promise to follow my directions carefully ) "Y«i." *ha hotwwL "hut I don't

know why you won't give mc your hand-. It would have been different if you had asked for mine." "If I had," I whispered, "what would the answer have been?" "The same as yours, of course," and then mimicking my tone, '1 can't give you my hand, because you couldn't take it if I did." "Cynthia!" I said passionately, "Cynthin! I love you, my darling little Cynthia. Just tell mc that I have not offended you by saying so. I do not ask for anything more at present." "You have asked too much already, sir," she said haughtily, but I thought I could hear her laugh. "How dare you say such things to mc in the —and just after refusing my hand" I moved towards her to grasp her hand and pour forth more demonstrations of love. Then I remembered, and cursed the place we were in. "We will get back to the ball room now at-once, Cynthia," I said angrily. "For reasons which I cannot explain I am unable to lead you there. But I will keep on talking and you must follow the sound of my voice- Keep it as close to you as possible." We both advanced, and came iout into the blaze of light and corporeal existence. By a happy coincidence my arm was in reality round Cynthia's waist, and her face bo close to mine that our cheeks touched. She gave a little scream and sprang away from mc. "How dare you," she cried. Womanlike she thought nothing of the wonderful phenomenon, but a great deal of the result "I am very sorry," I said humbly, "hut it was not my fault," and then I startled to explain all the things I did not understand myself, and I showed how two hands might touch in that darkness and neither feel the other, and bow the whole thing was a mere coincidence. "I see," she said thoughtfully, "and I suppose the words you spoke t<» mc just now were also part of the phenomenon-" "Cynthia," I replied earnestly, "a man could hardly jest when for more than an hour he believed that the woman he loved was dead-" Then for a moment a deep flush dyed her cheeks, and there came a look into her eyes that I have seen neither before nor since. It was not the full glow of love, which, thank God, has shone on mc many times since then, but it was the dawn, the faint light and rose colour of the daybreak. Then her father entered, and behind him a crowd of guests bearing enough food and wine for an army. Cynthia insisted on the ball being resumed, and we danced till four o'clock in the morning, and as a background to all the dances and laughter and light Btood that 20ft wall of night, out of which the sun bad risen for mcThe next morning Monagfian located the opposite wall of the hidden room. It was made of solid stone, but before evening,there was a hole in it ten feet wide. We ought to have been able to look clean through the chamber from side to side, but there was only the same impenetrable curtain of blackness. I had thought much about the strange phenomenon of this room, and had resolved to try an experiment. I drew a small scented cachou from my vest pocket, and going on my hands and knees placed it on the stone floor just within the darkness, so that I could tell exactly where it was. Monaghan looked at mc impatiently and thought I was going out of my senses. "What the devil are yon up tor" he said. For answer I thrust my head into the I gloom, and putting my face down to the floor where I had placed the cachou, sniffed rigorously. The little sweet had a powerful odour, which under ordinary renin Rtnnces could have been perceived two feet away. I could smell nofbiis. Then I drew back, and putting another cachou in my mouth, again thrust my head into the darkness. I could not detect the slightest taste. I laughed, and rose to my feet. "Well." said Monaghan. "have you finished?" "I have learned all 1 wanted to know," I answered with a smile. "In that room. Manoghan, a man can neither see, nor

feel, nor taste, nor smell. He can only I bear." '1 felt the walls and floor all round," he said. "Yes," I replied, "but they are the material boundary of the chamber. In ( the atmosphere of the chamber itself a 'man has only one sense. It is almost incredible, but it is a fact." I turned away, and began to examine the piece of masonry which had been hewn out of the wall for some clue to the strange phenomenon. With the help of the workmen I turned each piece over and scrutinised it carefully. At last I found a letter faintly carved on the stone. find continuing my search found other letters. With infinite labour, lasting a whole day, I managed to arrange these letters so as to make an intelligent sentence, nnd finally made out the following inscription in dog Latin. "Hie jacet corpus Edvardi Lypiatt, gui amnia cognovit"

A week later I chanced to be in the library. It was a wet day, and I was looking through a recent publication on witchcraft in the middle ages. I was idly turning over the pages and glancing at the curious illustrations reproduced from old pictures, when a name caught my eye, and I read a few lines with interest. Then I went back to the beginn•ning of the paragraph. It ran as follows: "The most interesting and icurious event of 1456 was the burning of Edward Lypiatt, youngest son of Sir John Lvpiatt of Lypiatt. Great House. It was rare, indeed, in those days that one of the aristocracy was accused of a crime which has nearly always been attributed to the lower orders. This man appears to have been endowed with extraordinary knowledge and intellect, and had studied mystic arts in Syria and Arabia. He claimed, among other things, to have discovered a means of depriving matter of some of its attributes. His theory

was as follows: "Everything is known to us from our five senses. In certain cases a thing is perceived by only four of these, in others by only one, and in the case of the atmosphere by none at all until the air is put in motion. It is also possible to deprive matter of some of its attributes, such as taste and smell. The Indians even claim to make things invisible, and it is possible for one who has the true secret of earthly existence to deprive matter of -every attribute and practically wipe it out of all human knowledge and perception. Edward Lypiatt claimed to have discovered this secret, and if he was at all successful it is small wonder that the people of his times burnt him at the stake. "It is, at any rate, related by John Malvert of Winchester, that when this 'perjured heretic* was bound to the stake, and the fire lit, both flame, smoke, stake, body and everything entirely disappeared from the public gaze for a few moments. Then he suddenly came into view again, and in half an hour nothing ■was left of the magician but the few charred remains of his bones. It appears that the influence of his father, though not sufficient to save his life, was great enough to obtain these few

relics from the public executioner. They were interred in Lypiatt Great House, but their resting place has never been made known to the general public, and it is commonly believed that this is a

secret handed down from father to son." I showed ihis passage to Monaghan. He said nothing, but the next day the masons were at work rebuilding the broken wall, nnd putting up a new and solid structure of stone between the hidden chamber and the ballroom.

I also showed it to Cynthia, who laurrhed, and said that she bad often heard of people losing their senses. I explnined to her how I had lost mine, and bow they mieht possibly be restored to mc. After some demur my susrgestion was adopted, and it has so far been entirely successful.