Image from Pixabay under Pixabay License
A PSYCHICAL INVASION
Written by: Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951
Chapters:
Part 1
''And what is it makes you think I could be of
use in this particular case ? " asked Dr. John Silence,
looking across somewhat sceptically at the Swedish
lady in the chair facing him.
" Your sympathetic heart and your knowledge of
occultism "
" Oh, please — ^that dreadful word ! " he inter-
rupted, holding up a finger with a gesture of im-
patience.
" Well, then," she laughed, " your wonderful clair-
voyant gift and your trained psychic knowledge of
the processes by which a personality may be dis-
integrated and destroyed — these strange studies
you've been experimenting with all these years "
" If it's only a case of multiple personality I must
really cry off," interrupted the doctor again hastily,
a bored expression in his eyes.
•* It's not that ; now, please, be serious, for I want
your help," she said; "and if I choose my words
poorly you must be patient with my ignorance. The
case I know will interest you, and no one else could
deal with it so well. In fact, no ordinary professional
man could deal with it at all, for I know of no
treatment or medicine that can restore a lost sense
of humour ! "
"' " You begin to interest me with your * case,' " he
replied, and made himself comfortable to listen.
Mrs. Sivendson drew a sigh of contentment as she
watched him go to the tube and heard him tell the
servant he was not to be disturbed.
" I believe you have read my thoughts already,"
she said ; " your intuitive knowledge of what goes on
in other people's minds is positively uncanny."
Her friend shook his head and smiled as he
drew his chair up to a convenient position and
prepared to listen attentively to what she had to
say. He closed his eyes, as he always did when he
wished to absorb the real meaning of a recital that
might be inadequately expressed, for by this method
he found it easier to set himself in tune with the
living thoughts that lay behind the broken words.
By his friends John Silence was regarded as
an eccentric, because he was rich by accident, and
by choice^-^i doctor. That a man of independent
means should devote his time to doctoring, chiefly
doctoring folk who could not pay, passed their com-
prdxension entirely. The native nobility of a soul
whose first desire was to help those who could not
help themselves, puzzled them. After that, it irritated
them, and, greatly to his own satisfaction, they left
him to his own devices.
Dr. Silence was a free-lance, though, among
doctors, having neither consulting-room, book-
keeper, nor professional manner. He took no fees,
being at heart a genuine philanthropist, yet at the
same time did no harm to his fellow-practitioners,
because he only accepted unremunerative cases,
and cases that interested him for some very special
reason. He argued that the rich could pay, and
the very poor could avail themselves of oi^^anised
charity, but that a very large class of ill-paid,
self-respecting workers, often followers of the arts,
could not afford the price of a week's comforts
merely to be told to travel. And it was these he
desired to help : cases often requiring special and
patient study — ^things no doctor can give for a
guinea, and that no one would dream of expecting
him to give.
But there was another side to his personality and
practice, and one with which we are now more
directly concerned; for the cases that especially
appealed to him were of no ordinary kind, but rather
of that intangible, elusive, and difficult nature best
described as psychical afflictions; and, though he
would have been the last person himself to approve
of the title, it was beyond question that he was known
more or less generally as the *' Psychic Doctor."
In order to grapple with cases of this peculiar kind,
he had submitted himself to a long and severe
training, at once physical, mental, and spiritual.
What precisely this training had been, or where
undergone, no one seemed to know, — ^for he never
spoke of it, as, indeed, he betra)red no single other
characteristic of the charlatan, — but the fact that it
had involved a total disappearance from the world
for five years, and that after be returned and began his
singular practice no one ever dreamed of applying
to him the so easily acquired epithet of quack, spoke
much for the seriousness of his strange quest and
also for the genuineness of his attainments.
For the modem psychical researcher he felt the
calm tolerance of the " man who knows." There was
a trace of pity in his voice — contempt he never
showed — wh^n he spoke of their methods.
''This classification of results is uninspired work
at best/' he said once to me, when I had been
his confidential assistant for some years. ^'It
leads nowhere, and after a hundred years will lead
nowhere. It is playing with the wrong end of a
rather dangerous toy. Far better, it would be, to
examine the causes, and then the results would so
easily slip into place and explain themselves. For
the sources are accessible, and open to all who have
the courage to lead the life that alone makes practical
investigation safe and possible."
And towards the question of clairvoyance, too, his
attitude was significantly sane, for he knew how
extremely rare the genuine power was, and that what
is commonly called clairvoyance is nothing more
than a keen power of visualising.
** It connotes a slightly increased sensibility, noth-
ing more," he would say. " The true clairvoyant de-
plores his power, recc^^ising that it adds a new horror
to life, and is in the nature of an affliction. And you
will find this always to be the real test."
Thus it was that John Silence, this singularly
developed doctor, was able to select his cases with a
clear knowledge of the difference between mere
hysterical delusion and the kind of psychical afflic-
tion that claimed his special powers. It was never
necessary for him to resort to the cheap mysteries of
divination ; for, as I have heard him observe^ after
the solution of some peculiarly intricate problem —
"Systems of divination, from geomancy down to
reading by tea-leaves, are merely so many methods
of obscuring the outer vision, in order that the inner
vision may become open. Once the method is
mastered, no system is necessary at all."
And the words were significant of the methods of
this remarkable man, the keynote of whose power
lay, perhaps, more than anything else, in the know-
ledge, first, that thought can act at a distance, and,
secondly, that thought is dynamic and can accomplish
material results.
" Learn how to think*' he would have expressed it,
" and you have learned to tap power at its source."
To look at — he was now past forty — ^he was sparely
built, with speaking brown eyes in which shone the
light of knowledge and self-confidence, while at the
same time they made one think of that wondrous
gentleness seen most often in the eyes of animals.
A close beard concealed the mouth without disguising
the grim determination of lips and jaw, and the face
somehow conveyed an impression of transparency,
almost of light, so delicately were the features refined
away. On the fine forehead was that indefinable
touch of peace that comes from identifying the mind
with what is permanent in the soul, and letting the
impermanent slip by without power to wound or
distress; while, from his manner, — so gentle, quiet,
sympathetic, — few could have guessed the strength
of purpose that burned within like a great flame.
*' I think I should describe it as a psychical case,"
continued the Swedish lady, obviously trying to
explain herself very intelligently, " and just the kind
you like. I mean a case where the cause is hidden
deep down in some spiritual distress, and "
'' But the symptoms firsts please, my dear Svenska,"
he interrupted, with a strangely compelling seriousness
of manner, '* and your deductions afterwards."
She turned round sharply on the edge of her chair
and looked him in the face, lowering her voice to
prevent her emotion betraying itself too obviously.
"In my opinion there's only one symptom," she
half whispered, as though telling something disagree-
able — '* fear — ^simply fear "
"Physical fear?"
" I think not ; though how can I say ? I think it's
a horror in the psychical r^on. It's no ordinary
delusion ; the man is quite sane ; but he lives in
mortal terror of something "
" I don't know what you mean by his * psychical
r^on,'" said the doctor, with a smile; ** though I
suppose you wish me to understand that his spiritual,
and not his mental, processes are affected. Anyhow,
try and tell me briefly and pointedly what you know
about the man, his symptoms, his need for help, my
peculiar help, that is, and all that seems vital in the
case. I promise to listen devotedly."
" I am trying," she continued earnestly, " but must
do so in my own words and trust to your intelligence
to disentangle as I go along. He is a young author,
and lives in a tiny house off Putney Heath somewhere.
He writes humorous stories— quite a genre of his
own: Pender — you must have heard the name — Felix
Pender? Oh, the man had a great gift, and married
on the strength of it ; his future seemed assured. I
say * had,' for quite suddenly his talent utterly failed
him. Worse, it became transformed into its opposite.
He can no longer write a line in the old way that
was bringing him success "
Dr. Silence opened his eyes for a second and
looked at her.
" He still writes, then ? The force has not gone ? "
he asked briefly, and then closed his eyes again to
listen.
"He works like a fury," she went on, "but pro-
duces nothing" — ^she hesitated a moment — ^"noth-
ing that he can use or sell. His earnings have
practically ceased, and he makes a precarious living
by book-reviewing and odd jobs — ^very odd, some of
them. Yet, I am certain his talent has not really
deserted him ^nally, but is merely "
Again Mrs. Sivendson hesitated for the appropriate
word.
" In abeyance/' he suggested, without opening his
eyes.
"Obliterated," she went on, after a moment to
weigh the word, "merely obliterated by something
" By some ofie else ? "
"I wish I knew. All I can say is that he is
haunted, and temporarily his sense of humour is
shrouded — gone — replaced by something dreadful
that writes other things. Unless something com-
petent is done, he will simply starve to death. Yet
he is afraid to go to a doctor for fear of being
pronounced insane ; and, anyhow, a man can hardly
ask a doctor to take a guinea to restore a vanished
sense of humour, can he ? "
" Has he tried any one at all ? "
" Not doctors yet. He tried some clergymen and
religious people ; but they Jknaw so little and have so
little intelligent sympathy. And most of them are
so busy balancing on their own little pedestals "
John Silence stopped her tirade with a gesture.
"And how is it that you know so much about
him ? " he asked gently.
" I know Mrs. Pender well — I knew her before she
married him "
" And is she a cause, perhaps ? "
" Not in the least She is devoted ; a woman very
well educated, though without being really intelligent,
and with so little sense of humour herself that she
always laughs at the wrong places. But she has
nothing to do with the cause of his distress; and,
indeed, has chiefly guessed it from observing him,
rather than from what little he has told her. And
he, you know, is a really lovable fellow, hard-working,
patient — altogether worth saving."
Dr. Silence opened his eyes and went over to ring
for tea. He did not know very much more about
the case of the humorist than when he first sat down
to listen ; but he realised that no amount of words
from his Swedish friend would help to reveal the real
facts. A personal interview with the author himself
could alone do that.
** All humorists are worth saving," he said with a
smile, as she poured out tea. *'We can't afford to
lose a single one in these strenuous days. I will go
and see your friend at the first opportunity."
She thanked him elaborately, effusively, with many
words, and he, with much difficulty, kept the conversa-
tion thenceforward strictly to the teapot.
And, as a result of this conversation, and a little
more he had gathered by means best known to
himself and his secretary, he was whizzing in his
motor-car one afternoon a few days later up the
Putney Hill to have his first interview with Felix
Pender, the humorous writer who was the victim of
some mysterious malady in his ''psychical region"
that had obliterated his sense of the comic and
threatened to wreck his life and destroy his talent.
And his desire to help was probably of equal strength
with his desire to know and to investigate.
The motor stopped with a deep purring sound, as
though a great black panther lay concealed within
its hood, and the doctor — the " psychic doctor," as he
was sometimes called — stepped out through the
gathering fog, and walked across the tiny garden
that held a blackened fir tree and a stunted laurel
shrubbery. The house was very small, and it was
some time before any one answered the bell. Then,
suddenly, a light appeared in the hall, and he saw
a pretty little woman standing on the top step beg^ng
him to come in. She was dressed in grey, and the
gaslight fell on a mass of deliberately brushed light
hair. Stuffed, dusty birds, and a shabby array of
African spears, hung on the wall behind her. A hat-
rack, with a bronze plate full of very large cards, led
his eye swiftly to a dark staircase beyond. Mrs.
Pender had round eyes like a child's, and she greeted
him with an effusiveness that barely concealed her
emotion, yet strove to appear naturally cordial.
Evidently she had been looking out for his arrival,
and had outrun the servant girl. She was a little
breathless.
** I hope you've not been kept waiting — I think it's
most good of you to come *' she began, and then
stopped sharp when she saw his face in the gaslight.
There was something in Dr. Silence's look that did
not encourage mere talk. He was in earnest now, if
ever man was.
" Good evening, Mrs. Pender," he said, with a quiet
smile that won confidence, yet deprecated unneces-
sary words, ** the fog delayed me a little. I am glad
to see you."
They went into a dingy sitting-room at the back
of the house, neatly furnished but depressing. Books
stood in a row upon the mantelpiece. The fire had
evidently just been lit It smoked in great puffs
into the room.
'^Mrs. Sivendson said she thought you might be
able to come," ventured the little woman again,
looking up engagingly into his face and betraying
anxiety and eagerness in every gesture. "But I
hardly dared to believe it. I think it is really too
good of you. My husband's case is so peculiar that
— well, you know, I am quite sure any ordinary
doctor would say at once the asylum ^"
" Isn't he in, then ? " asked Dr. Silence gently.
"In the asylum?" she gasped. "Oh dear, no—
not yet ! "
" In the house, I meant," he laughed.
She gave a great sigh.
"He'll be back any minute now," she replied,
obviously relieved to see him laugh ; " but the fact is,
we didn't expect you so early — I mean, my husband
hardly thought you would come at all."
"I am always delighted to come — when I am
really wanted, and can be of help," he said quickly ;
" and, perhaps, it's all for the best that your husband
is out, for now that we are alone you can tell me
something about his difficulties. So far, you know,
I have heard very little."
Her voice trembled as she thanked him, and when
he came and took a chair close beside her she actually
had difficulty in finding words with which to begin.
"In the first place," she began timidly, and then
continuing with a nervous incoherent rush of words,
•* he will be simply delighted that you've really come,
because he said you were the only person he would
consent to see at all — ^the only doctor, I mean. But,
of course, he doesn't know how frightened I afn, or
how much I have noticed. He pretends with me
that it's just a nervous breakdown, and I'm sure he
doesn't realise all the odd things I've noticed him
doing. But the main thing, I suppose "
"Yes, the main thing, Mrs. Pender," he said
encouragingly, noticing her hesitation.
" ^is that he thinks we are not alone in the
house. That's the chief thing."
" Tell me more facts — ^just facts."
" It began last summer when I came back from
Ireland ; he had been here alone for six weeks, and
I thought him looking tired and queer — ^ragged and
scattered about the face, if you know what I mean,
and his manner worn out. He said he had been
writing hard, but his inspiration had somehow failed
him, and he was dissatisfied with his work. His
sense of humor was leaving him, or changing into
something else, he said. There was something in
the house, he declared, that" — ^she emphasized the
words — " prevented his feeling funny."
" Something in the house that prevented his feeling funny," repeated the doctor. " Ah, now we're getting
to the heart of it!"
" Yes," she resumed vaguely; " that's what he kept
saying."
** And what was it he did that you thought strange ? "
he asked sympathetically. " Be brief, or he may be
here before you finish."
"Very small things, but significant it seemed to
me. He changed his workroom from the library, as we call it, to the sitting-room. He said all his
characters became wrong and terrible in the library ;
they altered so that he felt like writing tragedies —
vile, debased tragedies, the tragedies of broken souls.
But now he says the same of the smoking-room, and
he's gone back to the library."
"Ah I"
" You see, there's so little I can tell you," she went on, with increasing speed and countless gestures. " I
mean it's only very small things he does and says that are queer. What frightens me is that he assumes there is someone else in the house all the time — ^some one I never see. He does not actually say so, but on the stairs, I've seen him standing aside to let someone pass; I've seen him open a door to
let someone in or out; and often in our bedroom he
puts chairs about as though for someone else to sit
in. Oh — oh yes, and once or twice," she cried —
" once or twice "
She paused and looked about her with a startled
air.
"Yes?"
" Once or twice," she resumed hurriedly, as though
she heard a sound that alarmed her, " I've heard him
running — coming in and out of the rooms breathless
as if something were after him "
The door opened while she was still speaking,
cutting her words off in the middle, and a man came
into the room. He was dark and clean-shaven
sallow rather, with the eyes of imagination, and
dark hair growing scantily about the temples. He
was dressed in a shabby tweed suit, and wore an
untidy flannel collar at the neck. The dominant
expression of his face was startled — Shunted; an
an expression that might any moment leap into the
the dreadful stare of terror and announce a total loss of
self-control.
The moment he saw his visitor a smile spread
over his worn features, and he advanced to shake
hands.
** I hoped you would come ; Mrs. Sivendson said
you might be able to find time," he said simply.
His voice was thin and reedy. ** I am very glad to
see you, Dr. Silence. It is * Doctor,' is it not? "
^* Well, I am entitled to the description," laughed
the other, " but I rarely get it You know, I do not
practise as a regular thing ; that b, I only take cases
that specially interest me, or "
He did not finish the sentence, for the men ex-
changed a glance of sympathy that rendered it
unnecessary.
" I have heard of your great kindness "
" It's my hobby," said the other quickly, " and my
privilege."
'^I trust you will still think so when you have
heard what I have to tell you," continued the author,
a little wearily. He led the way across the hall into
the little smoking-room where they could talk freely
and undisturbed.
In the smoking-room, the door shut and privacy
about them, Pender's attitude changed somewhat,
and his manner became very grave. The doctor sat
opposite, where he could watch his face. Already,
he saw, it looked more haggard. Evidently it cost
him much to refer to his trouble at all.
" What I have is, in my belief, a profound spiritual
affliction," he began quite bluntly, looking straight
into the other's eyes.
" I saw that at once," Dr. Silence said.
''Yes, you saw that, of course; my atmosphere
must convey that much to any one with psychic
perceptions. Besides which, I feel sure from all I've
heard, that you are really a soul-doctor, are you not,
more than a healer merely of the body ? "
** You think of me too highly," returned the other ;
"though I prefer cases, as you know, in which the
spirit is disturbed first, the body afterwards."
" I understand, yes. Well, I have experienced a
curious disturbance in — not in my physical r^on
primarily. I mean my nerves are all right, and my
body is all right I have no delusions exactly, but
my spirit is tortured by a calamitous fear which first
came upon me in a strange manner."
John Silence leaned forward a moment and took the
speaker's hand and held it in his own for a few brief
seconds, closing his eyes as he did sa He was not
feeling his pulse, or doing any of the things that
doctors ordinarily do ; he was merely absorbing into
himself the main note of the man's mental condition,
so as to get completely his own point of view, and
thus be able to treat his case with true sympathy.
A very close observer might perhaps have noticed
that a slight tremor ran through his frame after he
had held the hand for a few seconds.
"Tell me quite frankly, Mr. Pender," he said
soothingly, releasing the hand, and with deep
attention in his manner, " tell me all the steps that
led to the beginning of this invasion. I mean tell
me what the particular drug was, and why you took
it, and how it affected you "
" Then you know it began with a drug I " cried the
author, with undisguised astonishment.
" I only know from what I observe in you, and in
its effect upon myself. You are in a surprising
psychical condition. Certain portions of your
atmosphere are vibrating at a far greater rate than
others. This is the effect of a drug, but of no
ordinary drug. Allow me to finish, please. If the
higher rate of vibration spreads all over, you will
become, of course, permanently cognisant of a much
larger world than the one you know normally. If,
on the other hand, the rapid portion sinks back to
the usual rate, you will lose these occasional increased
perceptions you now have,"
''You amaze me!" exclaimed the author; ''for
your words exactly describe what I have been
feeling "
" I mention this only in passing, and to give you
confidence before you approach the account of your
real affliction," continued the doctor. "All per-
ception, as you know, is the result of vibrations ;
and clairvoyance simply means becoming sensitive
to an increased scale of vibrations. The awakening
of the inner senses we hear so much about means no
more than that. Your partial clairvoyance is easily
explained. The only thing that puzzles me is how
you managed to procure the drug, for it is not easy
to get in pure form, and no adulterated tincture
could have given you the terrific impetus I see you
have acquired. But, please proceed now and tell me
your story in your own way."
" This Cannabis indical* the author went on, " came
into my possession last autumn while my wife was
away. I need not explain how I got it, for that has
no importance ; but it was the genuine fluid extract,
and I could not resist the temptation to make an
experiment. One of its effects, as you know, is to
induce torrential laughter "
"Yes; sometimes."
" 1 am a writer of humorous tales, and I wished
to increase my own sense of laughter — to see the
ludicrous from an abnormal point of view. I wished
to study it a bit, if possible, and *'
"Tell me!"
" I took an experimental dose. I starved for six hours to hasten the effect, locked myself into this room, and gave orders not to be disturbed. Then I
swallowed the stuff and waited."
" And the effect? "
" I waited for one hour, two, three, four, five hours.
Nothing happened. No laughter came, but only a
great weariness instead. Nothing in the room or in
my thoughts came within a hundred miles of a
humorous aspect."
" Always a most uncertain drug," interrupted the
doctor. "We make very small use of it on that
account."
" At two o'clock in the morning, I felt so hungry and tired that I decided to give up the experiment and wait no longer. I drank some milk and went upstairs to bed. I felt flat and disappointed. I fell asleep at once and must have slept for about an hour when I awoke suddenly with a great noise in my ears.
It was the noise of my own laughter I I was simply shaking with merriment. At first, I was bewildered and thought I had been laughing in dreams, but a moment later I remembered the drug, and was delighted to think that after all I had got an offer
It had been working all along, only I had mis*
calculated the time. The only unpleasant thing
then was an odd feeling that I had not waked
naturally, but had been wakened by some one else —
deliberately. This came to me as a certainty in the
middle of my noisy laughter and distressed me."
" Any impression who it could have been ? " asked
the doctor, now listening with close attention to
every word, very much on the alert.
Pender hesitated and tried to smile. He brushed
his hair from his forehead with a nervous gesture.
'* You must tell me all your impressions, even your
fancies; they are quite as important as your
certainties."
''I had a vague idea that it was some one con-
nected with my forgotten dream, some one who had
been at me in my sleep, some one of great strength
and great ability — of great force — quite an unusual
personality — and, I was certain, too — a woman."
*' A good woman ? " asked John Silence quietly.
Pender started a little at the question and his
sallow face flushed ; it seemed, to surprise him. But
he shook his head quickly with an indefinable look
of horror.
" Evil," he answered briefly, " appallingly evil, and
yet mingled with the sheer wickedness of it was
also a certain perverseness — ^the perversity of the
unbalanced mind."
He hesitated a moment and looked up sharply at
his interlocutor. A shade of suspicion showed itself
in his eyes.
" No," laughed the doctor, "you need not fear that
I'm merely humouring you, or think you mad. Far
from it Your story interests me exceedingly and
you furnish me unconsciously with a number of
clues as you tell it You see, I possess some know-
ledge of my own as to these psychic byways."
'*I was shaking with such violent laughter,"
continued the narrator, reassured in a moment,
'* though with no clear idea what was amusing me,
that I had the greatest difficulty in getting up for the
matches, and was afraid I should frighten the servants
overhead with my explosions. When the gas was lit
I found the room empty, of course, and the door
locked as usual. Then I half dressed and went out
on to the landing, my hilarity better under control,
and proceeded to go downstairs I wished to record
my sensations. I stuffed a handkerchief into my
mouth so as not to scream aloud and communicate
my hysterics to the entire household."
" And the presence of this — this ^? "
"It was hanging about me all the time," said
Pender, " but for the moment it seemed to have with-
drawn» Probably, too, my laughter killed all other
emotions."
" And how long did you take getting downstairs ? "
" I was just coming to that I see you know all
my ' symptoms ' in advance, as it were ; for, of course,
I thought I should never get to the bottom. Each
step seemed to take five minutes, and crossing the
narrow hall at the foot of the stairs-*-well, I could
have sworn it was half an hour's journey had not my
watch certified that it was a few seconds. Yet I
walked fast and tried to push on. It was no good.
I walked apparently without advancing, and at that
rate it would have taken me a week to get down
Putney Hill."
''An experimental dose radically alters the scale
of time and space sometimes "
** But, when at last I got into my study and lit the
gas, the change came horridly, and sudden as a flash
of lightning. It was like a douche of icy water, and
in the middle of this storm of laughter ^*
•*Yes; what?" asked the doctor, leaning forward
and peering into his eyes.
" 1 was overwhelmed with terror," said Pender,
lowering his reedy voice at the mere recollection of
it.
He paused a moment and mopped his forehead.
The scared, hunted look in his eyes now dominated
the whole face. Yet, all the time, the comers of his
mouth hinted of possible laughter as though the
recollection of that merriment still amused him. The
combination of fear and laughter in his face was very
curious, and lent great conviction to his story ; it also
lent a bizarre expression of horror to his gestures.
"Terror, was it?" repeated the doctor soothingly.
" Yes, terror ; for, though the Thing that woke me
seemed to have gone, the memory of it still frightened
me, and I collapsed into a chair. Then I locked the
door and tried to reason with myself, but the drug
made my movements so prolonged that it took me
five minutes to reach the door, and another five to
get back to the chair again. The laughter, too, kept
bubbling up inside me — ^great wholesome laughter
that shook me like gusts of wind — so that even my
terror almost made me laugh. Oh, but I may tell
you, Dr. Silence, it was alt(^;ether vile, that mixture
of fear and laughter, altogether vile !
" Then, all at once, the things in the room again
presented their funny side to me and set me off
laughing more furiously than ever. The bookcase
was ludicrous, the arm-chair a perfect clown, the
way the clock looked at me on the mantelpiece too
comic for words; the arrangement of papers and
inkstand on the desk tickled me till I roared and
shook and held my sides and the tears streamed
down my cheeks. And that footstool! Oh, that
absurd footstool I "
He lay back in his chair, laughing to himself and
holding up his hands at the thought of it, and at
the sight of him Dr. Silence laughed too.
** Go on, please," he said, '* I quite understand. I
know something myself of the hashish laughter."
The author pulled himself together and resumed,
his face growing quickly grave again.
" So, you see, side by side with this extravagant,
apparently causeless merriment, there was also an
extravagant, apparently causeless terror. The drug
produced the laughter, I knew ; but what brought in
the terror I could not imagine. Everywhere behind
the fun lay the fear. It was terror masked by cap
and bells; and I became the playground for two
opposing emotions, armed and fighting to the death.
Gradually, then, the impression grew in me that this
fear was caused by the invasion — so you called it just
now — of the * person ' who had wakened me : she was
utterly evil; inimical to my soul, or at least to all
in me that wished for good. There I stood, sweating
and trembling, laughing at everything in the room, yet
all the while with this white terror mastering my heart.
And this creature was putting — ^putting her "
He hesitated again, using his handkerchief freely.
"Putting what?"
" putting ideas into my mind/' he went on,
glancing nervously about the room. " Actually tap-
ping my thought-stream so as to switch off the
usual current and inject her own. How mad that
sounds ! I know it, but it's true. It's the only way
I can express it. Moreover, while the operation
terrified me, the skill with which it was accomplished
filled me afiresh with laughter at the clumsiness of
men by comparison. Our ignorant, bungling methods
of teaching the minds of others, of inculcating ideas,
and so on, overwhelmed me with laughter when I
understood this superior and diabolical method. Yet
my laughter seemed hollow and ghastly, and ideas of
evil and tragedy trod close upon the heels of the comic.
Oh, doctor, I tell you again, it was unnerving I "
John Silence sat with his head thrust forward to
catch every word of the story which the other
continued to pour out in nervous, jerky sentences
and lowered voice.
"You saw nothing — no one — all this time?" he
asked.
" Not with my eyes. There was no visual hallu-
cination. But in my mind there began to grow the
vivid picture of a woman — large, dark-skinned, with
white teeth and masculine features, and one eye — ^the
left — ^so drooping as to appear almost closed. Oh,
such a face ! "
" A face you would recognise again ? "
Pender laughed dreadfully.
" I wish I could forget it," he whispered, " I only
wish I could forget it ! " Then he sat forward in his
chair suddenly, and grasped the doctor's hand with
an emotional gesture.
"I must tell you how grateful I am for your
patience and sympathy/' he cried, with a tremor in
his voice, " and — ^that you do not think me mad. I
have told no one else a quarter of all this, and the
mere freedom of speech — the relief of sharing my
affliction with another — ^has helped me already more
than I can possibly say."
Dr. Silence pressed his hand and looked steadily
into the frightened eyes. His voice was very gentle
when he replied.
"Your case, you know, is very singular, but of
absorbing interest to me," he said, " for it threatens,
not your physical existence, but the temple of your
psychical existence — the inner life. Your mind
would not be permanently aifected here and now, in
this world; but in the existence after the body is
left behind, you might wake up with your spirit so
twisted, so distorted, so befouled, that you would be
spiritually insane — a far more radical condition than
merely being insane here."
There came a strange hush over the room, ^nd be-
tween the two men sitting there facing one another.
" Do you really mean — Good Lord ! " stammered
the author as soon as he could find his tongue.
" What I mean in detail will keep till a little later,
and I need only say now that I should not have
spoken in this way unless I were quite positive of
being able to help you. Oh, there's no doubt as to
that, believe me. In the first place, I am very
familiar with the workings of this extraordinary
drug, this drug which has had the chance effect of
opening you up to the forces of another region ; and,
in the second, I have a firm belief in the reality of
super-sensuous occurrences as well as considerable
knowledge of psychic processes acquired by long and
painful experiment The rest is, or should be, merely
sympathetic treatment and practical application.
The hashish has partially opened another world to
you by increasing your rate of psychical vibration,
and thus rendering you abnormally sensitive. Ancient
forces attached to this house have attacked you.
For the moment I am only puzzled as to their
precise nature ; for were they of an ordinary char-
acter, I should myself be psychic enough to feel
them* Yet I am conscious of feeling nothing as yet.
But now, please continue, Mr. Pender, and tell me
the rest of your wonderful story ; and when you have
finished, I will talk about the means of cure.''
Pender shifted his chair a little closer to the friendly
doctor and then went on in the same nervous voice
with his narrative.
''After making some notes of my impressions I
finally got upstairs again to bed. It was four o'clock
in the morning. I laughed all the way up — at the
grotesque banisters, the droll physiognomy of the
staircase window, the burlesque grouping of the
furniture, and the memory of that outrageous foot-
stool in the room below ; but nothing more happened
to alarm or disturb me, and I woke late in the morn-
ing after a dreamless sleep, none the worse for my
experiment except for a slight headache and a cold-
ness of the extremities due to lowered circulation."
" Fear gone, too ? " asked the doctor.
" I seemed to have forgotten it, or at least ascribed
it to mere nervousness. If s reality had gone, any-
how for the time, and all that day I wrote and wrote
and wrote. My sense of laughter seemed wonder-
fully quickened and my characters acted without
effort out of the heart of true humour. I was ex-
ceedingly pleased with this result of my experiment
But when the stenographer had taken her departure
and I came to read over the pages she had typed out,
I recalled her sudden glances of surprise and the odd
way she had looked up at me while I was dictating.
I was amazed at what I read and could hardly
believe I had uttered it."
"And why?"
" It was so distorted. The words, indeed, were
mine so far as I could remember, but the meanings
seemed strange. It /rightened me. The sense was
so altered. At the very places where my characters
were intended to tickle the ribs, only curious
emotions of sinister amusement resulted. Dreadful
innuendoes had managed to creep into the phrases.
There was laughter of a kind, but it was bizarre,
horrible, distressing; and my attempt at analysis
only increased my dismay. The story, as it read
then, made me shudder, for by virtue of these slight
changes it had come somehow to hold the soul of
horror, of horror disguised as merriment. The
framework of humour was there, if you understand
me, but the characters had turned sinister, and their
laughter was evil."
" Can you show me this writing ? "
The author shook his head.
" I destroyed it," he whispered. " But, in the end,
though of course much perturbed about it, I per-
suaded myself that it was due to some after-effect of
the drug, a sort of reaction that gave a twist to my
mind and made me read macabre interpretations
into words and situations that did not properly hold
them."
" And, meanwhile, did the presence of this person
leave you ? "
"No; that stayed more or less. When my mind
was actively employed I forgot it, but when idle,
dreaming, or doing nothing in particular, there she
was beside me, influencing my mind horribly "
" In what way, precisely?" interrupted the doctor.
'* Evil, scheming thoughts came to me, visions of
crime, hateful pictures of wickedness, and the kind
of bad imagination that so far has been foreign,
indeed impossible, to my normal nature "
" The pressure of the Dark Powers upon the personality," murmured the doctor, making a quick note.
" Eh ? I didn't quite catch *'
"Pray, go on. I am merely making notes; you
shall know their purport fully later."
" Even when my wife returned I was still aware of
this Presence in the house ; it associated itself with
my inner personality in most intimate fashion ; and
outwardly I always felt oddly constrained to be
polite and respectful towards it — ^to open doors,
provide chairs and hold myself carefully deferential
when it was about. It became very compelling at
last, and, if I failed in any little particular, I seemed
to know that it pursued me about the house, from
one room to another, haunting my very soul in its
inmost abode. It certainly came before my wife so
far as my attentions were concerned.
"But, let me first finish the story of my experi-
mental dose, for I took it again the third night, and
underwent a very similar experience, delayed like the
first in coming, and then carrying me off my feet
when it did come with a rush of this false demon-
laughter. This time, however, there was a reversal
of the changed scale of space and time ; it shortened,
instead of lengthened, so that I dressed and got
downstairs in about twenty seconds, and the couple
of hours I stayed and worked in the study passed
literally like a period of ten minutes/'
" That is often true of an overdose," interjected
the doctor, '' and you may go a mile in a few minutes,
or a few yards in a quarter of an hour. It is quite
incomprehensible to those who have never experi-
enced it, and is a curious proof that time and space
are merely forms of thought"
"This time," Pender went on, talking more and
more rapidly in his excitement, "another extra-
ordinary eifect came to me, and I experienced a
curious changing of the senses, so that I perceived
external things through one large main sense-channel
instead of through the five divisions known as sight,
smell, touch, and so forth. You will, I know,
understand me when I tell you that I heard sights
and saw sounds. No language can make this
comprehensible, of course, and I can only say, for
instance, that the striking of the clock I saw as a
visible picture in the air before me. I saw the
sounds of the tinkling bell. And in precisely the
same way I heard the colours in the room, especially
the colours of those books in the shelf behind
you. Those red bindings I heard in deep sounds,
and the yellow covers of the French bindings next
to them made a shrill, piercing note not unlike
the chattering of starlings. That brown bookcase
muttered, and those green curtains opposite kept up
a constant sort of rippling sound like the lower notes
of a wood-horn. But I only was conscious of these
sounds when I looked steadily at the different objects, and thought about them. The room, you
understand, was not full of a chorus of notes ; but
when I concentrated my mind upon a colour, I heard,
as well as saw, it."
" That is a known, though rarely-obtained, effect of
Cannabis indicai^ observed the doctor. " And it
provoked laughter again, did it ? "
''Only the muttering of the cupboard-bookcase
made me laugh. It was so like a great animal trying
to get itself noticed, and made me think of a per-
forming bear — ^which is full of a kind of pathetic
humour, you know. But this mingling of the senses
produced no confusion in my brain. On the contrary,
I was unusually clear-headed and experienced an
intensification of consciousness, and felt marvellously
alive and keen-minded.
" Moreover, when I took up a pencil in obedience
to an impulse to sketch — a talent not normally mine
— I found that I could draw nothing but heads,
nothing, in fact, but one head — always the same — ^the
head of a dark-skinned woman, with huge and
terrible features and a very drooping left eye ; and so
well drawn, too, that I was amazed, as you may
imagine ^
** And the expression of the face——? "
Fender hesitated a moment for words, casting
about with his hands in the air and hunching his
shoulders. A perceptible shudder ran over him.
"What I can only describe as — blacknessl^ he
replied in a low tone; ''the face of a dark and evil
soul."
"You destroyed that, too?" queried the doctor
sharply.
" No ; I have kept the drawings," he said, with a
laugh, and rose to get them from a drawer in the
writing-desk behind him.
" Here is all that remains of the pictures, you see,"
he added, pushing a number of loose sheets under
the doctor's eyes ; *' nothing but a few scrawly lines.
That's all I found the next morning. I had really
drawn no heads at all — nothing but those lines and
blots and wriggles. The pictures were entirely
subjective, and existed only in my mind which con-
structed them out of a few wild strokes of the pen.
Like the altered scale of space and time it was a
complete delusion. These all passed, of course, with
the passing of the drug's eilects. But the other
thing did not pass. I mean, the presence of that
Dark Soul remained with me. It is here still. It is
real. I don't know how I can escape from it"
^ It is attached to the house, not to you personally.
You must leave the house."
"Yes. Only I cannot afford to leave the house,
for my work is my sole means of support, and — well,
you see, since this change I cannot even write. They
are horrible, these mirthless tales I now write, with
their mockery of laughter, their diabolical suggestion.
Horrible ! I shall go mad if this continues."
He screwed his face up and looked about the
room as though ^e expected to see some haunting
shape.
" The influence in this house, induced by my ex-
periment, has killed in a flash, in a sudden stroke,
the sources of my humour, and, though I still go on
writing funny tales — I have a certain name, you know
— my inspiration has dried up, and much of what I
write I have to bum — ^yes, doctor, to burn, before
any one sees it."
" As utterly alien to your own mind and person-
ality?"
" Utterly I As though some one else had written
it ''
"Ah!"
"And shocking!" He passed his hand over his
eyes a moment and let the breath escape softly
through his teeth. "Yet most damnably clever in
the consummate way the vile suggestions are insinu-
ated under cover of a kind of high drollery. My
Stexiogrzpher left me, of course — and I've been afraid
to take another "
John Silence got up and hegain to wiIk about the
room leisurely without speaking ; he appeared to be
examining the pictures on the wall and reading the
names of the books lying about. Presently he paused
on the hearthrug, with his back to the fire, and turned
to look his patient quietly in the eyes. Pender's
face was grey and drawn; the hunted expression
dominated it; the long recital had told upon him.
" Thank you, Mr. Pender," he said, a curious glow
showing about his fine, quiet face, "thank you for
the sincerity and frankness of your account. But I
think now there is nothing further I need ask you."
He indulged in a long scrutiny of the author's
haggard features, drawing purposely the man's eyes
to his own and then meeting them with a look of
power and confidence calculated to inspire even the
feeblest soul with courage. "And, to b^in with,"
he added, smiling pleasantly, "let me assure you
without delay that you need have no alarm, for you
are no more insane or deluded than I myself am "
Pender heaved a deep sigh and tried to return the
smile.
-and this is simply a case, so far as I can
judge at present, of a very singular psychical invasion,
and a very sinister one, too, if you perhaps understand
what I mean **
" It's an odd expression ; you used it before, you
know," said the author wearily, yet eagerly listening
to every word of the diagnosis, and deeply touched
by the intelligent sympathy which did not at once
indicate the lunatic asylum.
" Possibly," returned the other, " and an odd afflic-
tion too, you'll allow, yet one not unknown to the
nations of antiquity,nor to those moderns, perhaps, who
recognise the freedom of action under certain patho-
genic conditions between this world and another."
"And you think," asked Pender hastily, "that it
is all primarily due to the Cannabis ? There is nothing
radically amiss with myself — nothing incurable,
or r'
" Due entirely to the overdose," Dr. Silence replied
emphatically, " to the drug's direct action upon yo\xr
psychical being. It rendered you ultra-sensitive and
made you respond to an increased rate of vibration.
And, let me tell you, Mr. Pender, that your experi-
ment might have had results far more dire. It has
brought you into touch with a somewhat singular
class of Invisible, but of one, I think, chiefly human
in character. You might, however, just as easily
have been drawn out of human range altogether, and
the results of such a contingency would have been ex-
ceedingly terrible. Indeed, jrou would not now be here
to tell the tale. I need not alarm you on that score,
but mention it as a warning you will not misunderstand or underrate after what you have been through.
"You look puzzled. You do not quite gather
what I am driving at ; and it is not to be expected
that you should, for you, I suppose, are the nominal
Christian with the nominal Christian's lofty standard
of ethics, and his utter ignorance of spiritual possibilities. Beyond a somewhat childish understanding
of * spiritual wickedness in high places,' you probably
have no conception of what is possible once you
break down the slender gulf that is mercifully fixed
between you and that Outer World. But my studies
and training have taken me far outside these orthodox
trips, and I have made experiments that I could
scarcely speak to you about in language that would
be intelligible to you."
He paused a moment to note the breathless interest
of Pender's face and manner. Every word he uttered
was calculated; he knew exactly the value and effect
of the emotions he desired to waken in the heart of
the afflicted being before him.
"And from certain knowledge I have gained
through various experiences," he continued calmly,
** I can diagnose your case as I said before to be one
of psychical invasion.'^
"And the nature of this — er — ^invasion?" stammered the bewildered writer of humorous tales.
" There is no reason why I should not say at once
that I do not yet quite know," replied Dr. Silence.
"I may first have to make one or two experiments "
" On me?" gasped Pender, catching his breath.
"Not exactly," the doctor said, with a grave
smile, "but with your assistance, perhaps. I shall
want to test the conditions of the house— to ascertain,
if possible, the character of the forces, of this strange
personality that has been haunting you **
" At present you have no idea exactly who — what
— why " asked the other in a wild flurry of
interest, dread and amazement.
" I have a very good idea, but no proof rather,"
returned the doctor. "The effects of the drug in
altering the scale of time and space, and merging
the senses have nothing primarily to do with the
invasion. They come to any one who is fool enough
to take an experimental dose. It is the other features
of your case that are unusual. You see, you are now
in touch with certain violent emotions, desires,
purposes, still active in this house, that were produced
in the past by some powerful and evil personality
that lived here. How long ago, or why they still
persist so forcibly, I cannot positively say. But I
should judge that they are merely forces acting
automatically with the momentum of their terrific
original impetus."
" Not directed by a living being, a conscious will,
you mean ? "
" Possibly not — but none the less dangerous on
that account, and more difficult to deal with. I
cannot explain to you in a few minutes the nature
of such things, for you have not made the studies
that would enable you to follow me; but I have
reason to believe that on the dissolution at death
of a human being, its forces may still persist and
continue to act in a blind, unconscious fashion. As
a rule they speedily dissipate themselves, but in the
case of a very powerful personality they may last a
long time. And, in some cases — of which I incline
to think this is one — these forces may coalesce with
certain non-human entities who thus continue their
life indefinitely and increase their strength to an
unbelievable d^ree. If the original personality was
evily the beings attracted to the left-over forces will
also be evil. In this case, I think there has been an
unusual and dreadful aggrandisement of the thoughts
and purposes left behind long ago by a woman of
consummate wickedness and great personal power of
character and intellect. Now, do you begin to see
what I am driving at a little ? "
Pender stared fixedly at his companion, plain
horror showing in his eyes. But he found nothing
to say, and the doctor continued —
"In your case, predisposed by the action of the
drug, you have experienced the rush of these forces
in undiluted strength. They wholly obliterate in
you the sense of humour, fancy, imagination, — all
that makes for cheerfulness and hope. They seek,
though perhaps automatically only, to oust your own
thoughts and establish themselves in their place.
You are the victim of a psychical invasion. At the
same time, you have become clairvoyant in the true
sense. You are also a clairvo}rant victim."
Pender mopped his face and sighed. He left his
chair and went over to the fireplace to warm himself.
'* You must think me a quack to talk like this, or
a madman," laughed Dr. Silence. ^ But never mind
that I have come to help you, and I can help you
if you will do what I tell you. It is very simple :
you must leave this house at once. Oh, never mind
the difficulties ; we will deal with those tc^ether. I
can place another house at your disposal, or I would
take the lease here off your hands, and later have it
pulled down. Your case interests me greatly, and
I mean to see you through, so that you have no
anxiety, and can drop back into your old groove of
work to-morrow I The drug has provided you, and
therefore me, with a short-cut to a very interesting
experience. I am grateful to you."
The author poked the fire vigorously, emotion
rising in him like a tide. He glanced towards the
door nervously.
"There is no need to alarm your wife or to tell
her the details of our conversation," pursued the
other quietly. '' Let her know that you will soon be
in possession again of your sense of humour and
your health, and explain that I am lending you
another house for six months. Meanwhile I may
have the right to use this house for a night or two
for my experiment Is that understood between us ? "
"I can only thank you from the bottom of my
heart," stammered Pender, unable to find words to
express his gratitude.
Then he hesitated for a moment, searching the
doctor's face anxiously.
" And your experiment with the house?" he said
at length.
'' Of the simplest character, my dear Mr. Fender.
Although I am myself an artificially trained psychic,
and consequently aware of the presence of discamate
entities as a rule, I have so far felt nothing here at
all. This makes me sure that the forces acting here
are of an unusual description. What I propose to do
is to make an experiment with a view of drawing out
this evil, coaxing it from its lair, so to speak, in order
that it may exhaust itself through me and become
dissipated for ever. I have already been inoculated/'
he added ; '^ I consider myself to be immune."
"Heavens above 1" gasped the author, collapsing
on to a chain
''Hell beneath I might be a more appropmte
exclamation/' the doctor laughed. "But, serioiisly,
Mr. Pender, this is what I propose to do — ^with your
permission."
" Of course, of course," cried the other, " you have
my permission and my best wishes for success. I
can see no possible objection, but "
"But what?"
" I pray to Heaven you will not undertake this
experiment alone, will you ? "
" Oh dear, no ; not alone."
"You will take a companion with good nerves,
and reliable in case of disaster, won't you ? "
" I shall bring two companions " the doctor said.
" Ah, that's better. I feel easier* I am sure you
must have among your acquaintances men who-^ "
" I shall not think of bringing men, Mr. Pender."
The otiiier looked up sharply.
" No, or women either ; or children "
" I don't understand. Who will you bring, then ? "
" Animals," explained tlie doctor, unable to prevent
a smile at his companion's expression of surprise —
"two animals, a cat and a dog."
Pender stared as if his eyes would drop out upon
the floor, and then led the way without another word
into the adjoining room where his wife was awaiting
them for tea.
Read Part 2: The Invasion Part 2
All Chapters