SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18678, 7 April 1924, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

THE EBONY STICK.

BY WILLIAM HALL ATT.

(Copyright.) There it stands in the corner of my study as I writethe heavy ebony stick with the carved handle. It is of great weight, even for - ebony; and the handle is of red ivory, carved with the head «i! Mephistopheles. That ivory head is a miracle of workmanship. As I look at it, the ruddy Seatores assume an appearance of mobility. They literally radiate evil. Taken simply at its face value, it is an unpleasant article; and I doubt if many men would k«*p it. I, and one other know something more of it than is superficial; and X keep it for two reasons—partly because I am afraid of it; and partly because it was the cornerstone of a terrible experience. Judge for yourself! This is its story.

More than twenty years ago, while visiting my cousin, Humphrey, in Yorkshire, I chanced to take that stick from his hallstand as a companion for a solitary cross-oountry , ramble. I remember I chose it for its weight. It seemed a likely weapon and good friend to have in an emergency. Coming back from that walk, I twice lost my way; and when I reached home, everybody in the quaint old Tudor mansion was abed. I. hastened to follow their example; and when I arrived in my room I found to my surprise that I still held the stick in my hand. I have a deep-rooted aversion to carrying off other people's belongings without their permission; bat it seemed foolish to go stumbling down into the darkness of the hall merely to replace a walking-stick. I stood it in a corner of the room and quickly got to bed. I had been very tired, and had looked forward to falling asleep the moment my head touched the pillow—a happiness that we dwellers in cities rarely know. I was both surprisd and annoyed on extinguishing the light, to find that I was very much awake. It was not that my weariness had passedindeed it had increased ten-fold. I was dog tiredbut sleep seemed to have definitely left my eyelids. ■/ •

I have occasionally been the victim of insomnia; but it seemed inconsequent that I should suffer an attack that eight, after a day spent in the open air. So it, was. I tossed restlessly in my bed. My condition was in every way identical with that which arises when the brain has been over-taxed and the body under-exercised. ; , i At length, realising that sleep would not be commanded, I composed myself as well as I might and commenced to turn over in my mind the plot of the novel that I intended writing on my return to town. It was yet in the embryonic stage; and I was engaged in pleasing speculation on my heroine's charms and my villain's misdeeds, when I became conscious, that the room was a little lighter than it had been. I, imagined that the moon must , have come out from hiding, and I glanced mechanically at the window. The night without was still of that Stygian blackness, which had made me curse it roundly a few hours previously, when lost upon the moors/ No;, the lighting effect, if' it were other than an- illusion must have its origin within the room. My eyes roved around critically; and now I became aware that some kind of light was issuing from the far corner of tha room. I can best describe it as a dull, red glow. While I was still marvelling at this phenomenon, my mind must have become a blank— without any warning, I slept. , . . \ As I slept, I dreamed and this was my dream. I saw the old, oak-panelled bedroom in which I had gone to sleep—only it was different; for the bed was turned another way, and the furniture was not the same. In the room, in the act of going to bed, was a young man with - his back towards me. His back was strangely familiar. He made his final preparations, then sprang quickly into bed: and, turning, put'.out his candle. I caught a glimpse of his face, illumined tor a moment by the yellow light. ; The young man was my dead: cousin, Victor-Hum-phrey's half-brother. „ > - ' ; Poor Victor had met a violent end some seven years before the time ,of which I write. He had been found murdered in his bed; and the crime was attributed to one of a well-known gang of burglars that was known to. have been operating in the district. However, this was never proved;; no arrest was ever made; and,' the affair had remained an unsolved mysteryand, indeed, remains so to this day. Nothing ever seems incongruous in dreams; and I remember that I was not in the least sur- j prised at thus seeing Victor in the act of" going to bed—but only mildly interested, as I realised subconsciously that I had not seen him for some years. Dream motion, too, is an extraordinary thing. As the light went out, I was transported from the room, and found myself in the one above. I recognised the new scene as "my cousin Humphrey's bed-chamber; and a moment later, I saw that Humphrey was present; for he issued out of the large, hanging cupboard that was built into the wall. He was dressed in his pyjmas, and he had something dark tucked away under his arm. As he moved quickly to the door, I saw that this dark object was the Ebony Stick. , He opened the door with caution ; and passed out', closing it behind him. ' ■ I was immediately transferred to his side in the corridor, and seemed to keep pace with him as he moved stealthily along it. 1 now noticd ' that the reason why I could see him in the darkness was that a doll, red glow hovered just below his chin, and moved with him as he walked. I further noticed that this glow radiated from the head of the Ebony Stick, which he still held tightly under his arm. > : He reached the broad staircase, and descended it to the next floor. He then moved quietly along the passage until he came to the door of my room. Here he paused. , _ '• ■- ■ He now took the stick in his left . hand holding it by the middle— his right he opened the door and tip-toed inside the room. ..... _ And now comes what I consider* the most, extraordinary nart of this nightmare.' Hitherto, as Humphrey moved. I had followed in his —easily, walking on air ; in the strange manner of dream motion. Now I felt myself restrained. Try as I would, I could not cross the threshold. I could not enter the room._ I could see Humphrey moving across it; or, rather, I knew of his movement by the progress of the red glow. He was at the bedside; and then the whole scene brightened as the ivory head of the stick grew swiftly and dazzlingly incandescent. ... / I saw. Humphrey put his right hand .o the head of the Stick. His hand covered it, and the room darkened. Out of the darkness came a terrible sound, which chilled me through «nd through. . • I awoke screaming /•.. . bathed in sweat. Terrified, I peered towards the far corner of the room; where I had put Something; where Something had glowed— lurid. The cloak of night lay thick and heavy—darkness all around. . • Thoroughly awakened by this horrid interlude, I lay, trying to reason out what- I had seen. There was no doubt in my mind but that it had partaken more of the quality of vision than of dream. My cousin Humphrey was a morose and taciturn man. He had inherited the Old Hall after the tragic death of his halfbrother seven years before, : -

t Was : it possible fissfche tad toed fgmJitf >W of the awful " crime suggested by th# v revenant ? Had the etrange. ebony atadl been 'the instrument and if, so,, ad ii] stored op associations of the deed, -in tbs way that, according :to many, inamissta'' things can and do f ; X* As I brought back to my mind the den- \ tails of the tragedy, I realised the improbability of thisparticularly of the ebony ; stick being the weapon. This comforted me a little. 1 determined to thresh the whole mattery out with Humphrey in the morning: and thus having arranged things with what satisfaction I could, I was abo.it to v/uo sleep a second time, when I again became aware of the curious lighting effect, in the chamber. Fearfully I looked towards the far corner, whence it had previously animated. Thagdull red glow was again present; only on this occasion it was brighter —giving off room li-:ht. My eyes were rivited on it ; and as I gazed it grew—brighter and brighter, until t.he glow had become a beam—-the beam ait effulgence . . . And in tne midst of this field of light, I saw nuit« distinctly the carved head of the ebony stick. The. sardonic fare of the fiend stood out very real in its infernal haloand the reality increased till I could have sworn that it was gibbering at methis carving in red ivory. Impelled by a froc-e that was not of me, I arose from my bed and approached the corner. I seemed to have lost all fear of the thing and to be consumed with a terrible anxiety to pick it op—to place it under my arm—and hardly had I visualised these desires than they were accomplished —and more ! Indeed, gratification seemed to 1 be running ahead of desire like a bolting horse. I was in the corridor—l had reached the staircase; had ascended it, and passed up another passage halted before a door. -■ And a second after each act was accomplished I knew that I had wished it. I opened the door I tip-toed throe gh it. Before me was a bedl divined this rather than saw—and in the bed a sleepur. I approached very stealthily, like a cid, and a wave swept over mo. I realised* that I had come to Kill, and that I held the weapon under my arm. I took • the Ebony Stick in my left hand by the middle, and my right full automatically upon tha carved ivory handle.' -v///-.■' Now two things happened simultaneously. The long hiding moon came out, and shone full upon the bed, f,ad something happened to the stick. , The.ro was a sharp click, and the ebony truncheon that I held in my left hand slid away with > a grating noise, leaving m my right a naked, 'shimmering sword blade. I raised my arm. . .' The eves of the sleeper opened, and Humphrey was staring up at meall light of. reason gone for ever from his eves. A moment later fee was giving vent to peal upon peal of wild demoniac laughter. ■ I shuddered) violently from head to foot; and with that paroxysm of horror, I threw off the influence that had held ma enthralled. ' I awoke from my somnambulism. i<jjf find myself standing at my cousin's bedside with a bare Toledan sword-stick in my hand. That is the story, and I have no explanation to give. " When I think how nearly I became a murderer, . I find it hard to apportion blame to poor, demented Humphrey, who was never sane more. ; ' J How m'acb covetonsness and evil passion had to do with that fratricide—and how ; much the Ebony Stick—who shall judge ! Mot I. ' . ■/.- . Peopls who eschew all that is transcendental tell that the stick never glowed— but in my. distorted imagination. Who knows ? > It has never glowed since; still, there «re times when I glance up from my desk at the carved head of Mephistopheles and tremble. . I would give much to know bis history !