Tales From Jokai Part 31

"Then, whichever of us keeps sober shall do for the other. Here is a long nail and a hammer. If it be driven well into the skull, none will be a penny the wiser."

"True, especially in your case, who have such thick hair; but I have a moon on the top of my head."

"Never fear. I'll make a good job of it."

I'm bound to confess that a cold shiver ran through me as I listened to this conversation. Even if I wanted to escape there was no means of escaping, for they sat right in front of the door opposite which I had drawn the chair and the sofa.

Then they both began drinking out of the same cup, first one and then the other. They filled it up for each other from the cognac flask right up to the brim, so that the liquid flowed over the edge of the cup.

"Your health, my brother!"

"Your health!"

Each of them always said this with such a devilish smile as he watched his brother gasp and choke as he swallowed the intoxicating stuff, while his head waggled backwards and forwards, and his face turned a ghastly yellow or a flaming red, and the veins on his temples stood out in green and blue knots like strained cords.

"You are drunk, my brother!"

"Nay, 'tis you."

Meanwhile the candles burning on the table began to burn low. It seemed as if a b.l.o.o.d.y mist were enveloping their flames, which gradually a.s.sumed a dusky lilac hue. The two faces suddenly went quite pale, the two heads suddenly grew quite shaky; it was hard to say which of them would fall down first.

The flames of the candles had now pa.s.sed into the darkest green, and in that green light the two faces seemed of a deadly pallor. They were no longer able to converse, but glared at each other with stony eyes, and kept offering each other the intoxicating drink.

Suddenly the candles flared up, and then went out. The two figures instantly disappeared.

The moon was shining through the painted windows in all her glory; the burning logs in the fireplace cast a rosy light into the semi-darkness.

I was alone in the room.

I dreamt it all, I said, and I laughed at myself, though my teeth kept on chattering. It was a dream, a dream, I kept on rea.s.suring myself. Now I will go and lie down. I'll take off my things, I'll get into bed, I'll draw the bed-clothes over my head, and then let them go on haunting as much as they like. They may rise from their graves and roam about to their hearts' content. I shall simply take no notice.

The moon shone with a beautiful white light; the fire gave forth a nice rosy illumination. I had no need of the candles, which I could not have lit had I wanted to, for they had burnt down to the very socket. I shall be able to find the bed quite comfortably. So I undressed myself leisurely, wound up my watch, and drew aside the curtains of the alcove which contained the bed, in order to lie down on it.

Horror rooted me to the spot.

In the bed lay the two brothers side by side; two fearfully distorted corpses. One of them lay on his back, but with his face looking down, and in his bald head the head of the nail shone in the moonlight like a dark blue spot; the other brother lay beside him with his head turned towards the sky.

Horror, I say, paralyzed me. I had not strength to move a limb. I would have cried out, but I had no voice. I would have seized the bell-rope, but my hand was powerless. I would have fled, but my legs weighed me down like lead. My chest was oppressed, my legs were benumbed. At last, with a most desperate effort of my will, and after frightful torments, I p.r.o.nounced something or other--and immediately awoke.

Those who have suffered from nightmare will understand what a torture it is under the circ.u.mstances to utter a word.

It was morning, and the sun was shining through the tall poplars. There, too, I was lying on the sofa in front of the closed door, where I had laid down in order not to fall asleep.

The candles really had burnt down to their sockets, and the teacup was really empty. However, I was inclined to believe that I had put nothing into it the night before, and that tea, rum, and cognac had all been simply dreamt.

But--now comes the most terrible part of this ghost story.

What had been happening in the niche all this time?

The curtain was precisely as I had sketched it, not a wrinkle of a fold had been changed in it.

Therefore, n.o.body could have laid hands upon it.

Still completely possessed by the memory of my nightly visions, I approached the mysterious niche, and I cannot deny that my hand trembled as I drew aside the curtain.

And, behold . . . the two mortally hostile skulls were turned back to back!

A cold shudder ran twice or thrice right down my body.

This, at any rate, was no dream. I _saw_ it. It was broad daylight.

Outside, the usual daily noise and racket had begun, and at that very time I saw before me the most frightful of phantoms.

Then things really do happen beneath the sun which our philosophy cannot account for?

Then it is a fact that those two lifeless skulls live and hate and turn from each other even after death?

I don't believe it, it is impossible, it is not true.

I see, I tremble at it, and yet it is not true.

It _is_ true, and yet I don't believe it.

I then bethought me of the story of the clergyman who was said to have discovered the subterranean marvel, and dared to put his hand on the head of the spectre, and then carried about the marks of its teeth to his dying day.

I don't care.

I'll let it bite me too.

I lifted the gla.s.s from the skulls. My heart may have beaten violently, I don't deny it. I stretched out my arm. My hand came in contact with a cold jaw-bone. I raised it and turned it round.

Hah!

What had happened? Had it bit me?

I should have flung it away with all my heart if it had; but at that instant I discovered that it was provided with a cunningly constructed piece of clockwork, which made it turn round if you pressed a spring.

The other skull was provided with a similar contrivance.

At the breakfast-table I encountered Squire Gabriel. As usual he was very solemn, so was I.

"How did you sleep?" he inquired, with sympathetic courtesy.

"Thank you, very badly. I drank lots of tea yesterday evening, and it plagued me with all manner of spectres."

"And what did the skulls do?"

"Well, they seem to have quite distinguished themselves for my special edification, for they not only turned their backs on each other, but even stood on their heads."

At these words, Squire Gabriel laughed greatly.

"So you looked inside them, eh?"