The Secrets of Dr. Taverner (4 page)

Then the end came. Taverner leapt forward. There was a Sign
then a Sound. The grey form commenced to spin like a top.
Faster and faster it went, its outlines merging into a whirling
spiral of mist; then it broke. Out into space went the particles
that had composed its form, and with the almost soundless
shriek of supreme speed the soul went to its appointed place.

Then something seemed to lift. From a cold hell of limitless
horror the flagged space became a normal back yard, the trees
ceased to be tentacled menaces, the gloom of the wall was no
longer an ambuscade, and I knew that never again would a grey
shadow drift out of the darkness upon its horrible hunting.

I released Craigie, who collapsed in a heap at my feet: Miss
Wynter went to rouse her father, while Taverner and I got the
insensible man into the house.

----------

What masterly lies Taverner told to the family I have never
known, but a couple of months later we received, instead of the
conventional fragment of wedding cake, a really substantial
chunk, with a note from the bride to say it was to go in the office
cupboard, where she knew we kept provisions for those
nocturnal meals that Taverner's peculiar habits imposed upon
us.

It was during one of these midnight repasts that I questioned
Taverner about the strange matter of Craigie and his familiar.
For a long time I had not been able to refer to it; the memory of
that horrible sheep-killing was a thing that would not bear
recalling.

"You have heard of vampires," said Taverner. "That was a
typical case. For close on a hundred years they have been
practically unknown in Europe--Western Europe that is--but
the War has caused a renewed outbreak, and quite a number of
cases have been reported.

"When they were first observed--that is to say, when some
wretched lad was caught attacking the wounded, they took him
behind the lines and shot him, which is not a satisfactory way of
dealing with a vampire, unless you also go to the trouble of
burning his body, according to the good old-fashioned way of
dealing with practitioners of black magic. Then our enlightened
generation came to the conclusion that they were not dealing
with a crime, but with a disease, and put the unfortunate
individual afflicted with this horrible obsession into an asylum,
where he did not usually live very long, the supply of his
peculiar nourishment being cut off. But it never struck anybody
that they might be dealing with more than one factor-- that what
they were really contending with was a gruesome partnership
between the dead and the living."

"What in the world do you mean?" I asked.

"We have two physical bodies, you know," said Taverner,
"the dense material one, with which we are all familiar, and the
subtle etheric one, which inhabits it, and acts as the medium of
the life forces, whose functioning would explain a very great
deal if science would only condescend to investigate it. When a
man dies, the etheric body, with his soul in it, draws out of the
physical form and drifts about in its neighbourhood for about
three days, or until decomposition sets in, and then the soul
draws out of the etheric body also, which in turn dies, and the
man enters upon the first phase of his post mortem existence, the
purgatorial one.

"Now, it is possible to keep the etheric body together almost
indefinitely if a supply of vitality is available, but, having no
stomach which can digest food and turn it into energy, the thing
has to batten on someone who has, and develops into a spirit
parasite which we call a vampire.

"There is a pretty good working knowledge of black magic in
Eastern Europe. Now, supposing some man who has this
knowledge gets shot, he knows that in three days time, at the
death of the etheric body, he will have to face his reckoning, and
with his record he naturally does not want to do it, so he
establishes a connection with the subconscious mind of some
other soul that still has a body, provided he can find one suitable
for his purposes. A very positive type of character is useless; he
has to find one of a negative type, such as the lower class of
medium affords. Hence one of the many dangers of mediumship
to the untrained. Such a negative condition may be temporarily
induced by, say, shell-shock, and it is possible then for such a
soul as we are considering to obtain an influence over a being of
much higher type--Craigie, for instance--and use him as a
means of obtaining its gratification."

"But why did not the creature confine its attentions to
Craigie, instead of causing him to attack others?"

"Because Craigie would have been dead in a week if it had
done so, and then it would have found itself minus its human
feeding bottle. Instead of that it worked through Craigie, getting
him to draw extra vitality from others and pass it on to itself;
hence it was that Craigie had a vitality hunger rather than a
blood hunger, though the fresh blood of a victim was the means
of absorbing the vitality."

"Then that German we all saw--?"

"Was merely a corpse who was insufficiently dead."

******************************

The Return of the Ritual

It was Taverner's custom, at certain times and seasons, to do
what I should call hypnotize himself; he, however, called it
"going subconscious," and declared that, by. means of
concentration, he shifted the focus of his attention from the
external world to the world of thought. Of the different states of
consciousness to which he thus obtained access, and of the work
that could be performed in each one, he would talk by the hour,
and I soon learnt to recognize the phases he passed through
during this extraordinary process.

Night after night I have watched beside the unconscious body
of my colleague as it lay twitching on the sofa while thoughts
that were not derived from his mind influenced the passive
nerves. Many people can communicate with each other by means
of thought, but I had never realized the extent to which this
power was employed until I heard Taverner use his body as the
receiving instrument of such messages.

One night while he was drinking some hot coffee I had given
him (for he was always chilled to the bone after these
performances) he said to me: "Rhodes, there is a very curious
affair afoot."

I inquired what he meant.

"I am not quite sure," he replied. "There is something going
on which I do not understand, and I want you to help me to
investigate it."

I promised my assistance, and asked the nature of the
problem.

"I told you when you joined me," he said, "that I was a
member of an occult brotherhood, but I did not tell you anything
about it, because I am pledged not to do so, but for the purpose
of our work together I am going to use my discretion and explain
certain things to you.

"You know, I daresay, that we make use of ritual in our work.
This is not the nonsense you may think it to be, for ritual has a
profound effect on the mind. Anyone who is sufficiently
sensitive can feel vibrations radiating whenever an occult
ceremonial is being performed. For instance, I have only got to
listen mentally for a moment to tell whether one of the Lhassa
Lodges is working its terrific ritual.

"When I was subconscious just now I heard one of the rituals
of my own Order being worked, but worked as no Lodge I have
ever sat in would perform it. It was like a rendering of
Tschaikowsky picked out on the piano with one finger by a
child, and unless I am very much mistaken, some unauthorized
person has got hold of that ritual and is experimenting with it."

"Someone has broken his oath and given away your secrets,"
I said.

"Evidently," said Taverner. "It has not often been done, but
instances have occurred, and if any of the Black Lodges, who
would know how to make use of it, should get hold of the ritual
the results might be serious, for there is great power in these old
ceremonies, and while that power is safe in the hands of the
carefully picked students whom we initiate, it would be a very
different matter in those of unscrupulous men."

"Shall you try to trace it?" I inquired.

"Yes," said Taverner, "but it is easier said than done. I have
absolutely nothing to guide me. All I can do is to send round
word among the Lodges to see whether a copy is missing from
their archives; that will narrow our zone of search somewhat."

Whether Taverner made use of the post or of his own
peculiar methods of communication I do not know, but in a few
day's time he had the information he required. None of the
carefully guarded rituals was missing from any of the Lodges,
but when search was made among the records at headquarters it
was discovered that a ritual had been stolen from the Florentine
Lodge during the middle ages by the custodian of the archives
and sold (it was believed) to the Medici; at any rate, it was
known to have been worked in Florence during the latter half of
the fifteenth century. What became of it after the Medician
manuscripts were dispersed at the plundering of Florence by the
French was never known; it was lost sight of and was believed to
have been destroyed. Now, however, after the lapse of so many
centuries someone was waking its amazing power.

As we were passing down Harley Street a few days later,
Taverner asked me if I would mind turning aside with him into
the Marylebone Lane, where he wished to call at a second-hand
bookshop. I was surprised that a man of the type of my colleague
should patronize such a place, for it appeared to be stocked
chiefly with tattered paper covered Ouidas and out-of-date
piousness, and the alacrity with which the shopboy went to fetch
the owner showed that my companion was a regular and
esteemed customer.

The owner when he appeared was an even greater surprise
than his shop; unbelievably dusty, his frock-coat, beard and face
all appeared to be of a uniform grey-green, yet when he spoke
his voice was that of a cultured man, and, though my companion
addressed him as an equal, he answered as to a superior.

"Have you received any reply to the advertisement I asked
you to insert for me?" asked Taverner of the snuff-coloured
individual who confronted us.

"I have not; but I have got some information for you-- you
are not the only purchaser in the market for the manuscript."

"My competitor being?"

"A man named Williams."

"That does not tell us very much."

"The postmark was Chelsea," said the old bookseller with a
significant look.

"Ah!" said my employer. "If that manuscript should come
into the market I will not limit you as to price."

"I think we are likely to have a little excitement" observed
Taverner as we left the shop, its dust-covered occupant bowing
behind us. "The Chelsea Black Lodges have evidently heard
what I heard and are also making a bid for the ritual."

"You do not suppose that it is one of the Chelsea Lodges that
has got it at the present moment?" I inquired.