The Secrets of Dr. Taverner (9 page)

I spoke to Taverner. I knew of his policy of allowing his
patients to follow their whims as far as possible.

"Let her go by all means," he said. "Go with her and see what
she does. We cannot let the girl wander about these moors by
herself, though I don't suppose she would come to the slightest
harm."

Miss Tyndall and I went out into the warm darkness of the
spring night. She set the pace at a swinging, effortless stride that
carried us rapidly over the heather paths. We were climbing
towards the heights of Hindhead, and the ascent was trying at
the pace we were making. Under the lee of a little pine wood we
paused.

"Listen," said the girl, "how still it is. Do you know anything
about birds? We have an owl near us at home that hoots on three
notes. I have never been able to find out where he is. I often hear
him shortly after dusk."

We had passed the point where the old coach road crossed
the modern metalled highway. Below us was the monument to
the memory of the murdered sailor, and above stood the great
Celtic cross that gives rest to the souls of hanged men. Far away
in the still night a car with open throttle was coming up from
Thursley. We watched it as it tore past us, a shadow behind the
glare of its headlights. I thought of that wild night ride to the
coast, and wondered whether there was another soul in torment
who sought to escape by speed from the hell within.

The girl at my side suddenly clutched my arm.

"I feel as if my soul would be torn out of my body," she
gasped. "I am being drawn into a whirlpool. What is happening?
What does it mean?"

I soothed her as best I could, and we set out upon the walk
home. Miss Tyndall was now thoroughly overwrought, starting
at every bush.

Suddenly she paused listening.

"Here it comes," she said.

Neither she nor I saw anything, but I was as certain as she
was that we were not alone.

"Gipsies are numerous in these parts," I said.

"It is not gypsies," she answered, "it is the Presence. I know
it quite well. There is no need to be alarmed; it never does any
harm, but isn't it a curious feeling?"

She paused and looked at me, her face tense in the uncertain
light that precedes moonrise. "There is something I want Dr.
Rhodes; I don't know what it is, but I shall go on wanting it till I
die, and never want anything else. If I do not find it, then I shall
know that I have lived my life in vain."

When we returned we found that Taverner was out. An
accident had occurred at the Hindhead cross-roads; the local
doctors were not available, and Taverner, although he took no
part in the general practice of the neighbourhood, had been
telephoned for to give first aid. Miss Tyndall wished me
goodnight and went to her room, and I:

was debating whether I would go to bed when the telephone
bell rang.

"That you, Rhodes?" said Taverner's voice. "I am bringing a
man back here. Will you have a bed made up for a surgical
case?"

It was not long before I heard the car outside, and helped to
unload the improvised stretcher.

"Another curious coincidence," said Taverner, with the
one-sided smile he reserved for scepticism, and I saw that ~ the
man we were lifting was Arnold Black.

"Then it was his car we heard on the Portsmouth road," I
cried.

"Very likely," said Taverner. "He was driving at his usual
gait, failed to negotiate the cross-roads, and rolled down the
bank into the bushes."

"The steering gear must have gone wrong," I said.

"Or the man's mind," said Taverner.

We got our patient into bed and were settling him down for
the night, when a nurse came along to say that Miss Tyndall was
in a very excited state. We left the woman in charge of Black
and went along to the girl's bedroom.

We found her sitting up in bed--excited, as the nurse had
said, but still mistress of herself.

"It is the Presence," she said; "it is so strong that I feel as if
at any moment I might see something."

Taverner lowered the light. "Let us see if we can get a look at
it," he observed.

It is a peculiarity of a mystic that his presence stimulates the
psychic faculties of those he is with, and Taverner was a mystic
of no ordinary type. I have nothing of the mystic in my make up,
but when astral entities are about I am conscious of a sensation
such as we considered in childhood to be due to a goose walking
over one's grave. Taverner would often describe to me the
appearance of the thing that gave rise to these sensations as it
presented itself to his trained sight, and after a little practice I
found that, although I was seldom able to see anything, I could
locate the direction whence the vibrations came.

As we waited in the darkened room I became conscious of
this sensation, and then Taverner exclaimed:

"Look, Rhodes, even you must see this, for it is the etheric
double coming out of the physical body."

Beside the girl on the bed a coffin-shaped drift of grey mist
was spreading itself. As we watched it I saw it take form, and I
could trace the distinct outline of a human figure. Slowly the
features grew clear, and I recognized the lean Red Indian
countenance of Arnold Black. The girl rose on her elbow and
stared in astonishment at the form beside her. Then with a cry
she sought to gather the grey drift into her arms.

"It has come--it has come," she cried. "Look. I can see

it. It is real." But the impalpable stuff eluded her, her hands
passed through it as through a fog-wreath, and with a cry of
distress she hung over the form she could not hold.

"What does it all mean?" I asked Taverner.

"It means death if we can't get it back," he said. "That is
Black's etheric double, what you would call his ghost, the subtle
body that carries the life forces. It is inspired by emotions, and,
being freed for the time, has come to the object of its
desires--the reborn soul of the woman he loved in the past. The
astral body has often been here before; it was that of which she
was conscious when she felt what she calls `the Presence,' but it
has never previously been able to come in such a definite form
as this. It means that Black is on the point of death. We must see
if we can induce this grey shape to re-enter its house of flesh."

Taverner laid his hand on the girl's shoulder, compelling her
attention.

"Come with me," he said.

"I cannot leave It," she replied, again seeking to gather up the
shadowy form on the bed.

"It will follow you," said Taverner.

Meekly the girl rose. I put her dressing gown over her
shoulders and Taverner held open the door for her. She preceded
us into the passage, the grey mist-wreath drifting after her, its
outlines merged in a shapeless fog. It was no longer horizontal
but upright, looking like a sheet held up by the corner. The girl
moved ahead of us down the passage; with her hand on the door
of the room where Black lay she paused, then she entered, and
started back in confusion as the light of a nightlight revealed the
form of a man in the bed.

"I--I beg your pardon," she faltered, and sought to retreat,
but Taverner pushed her ahead of him and closed the door.

He led her gently to the bed. "Have you ever seen this man
before?" he asked.

"Never," she replied, staring with a curious fascination at the
set face on the pillow.

"Look straight into yourself, face your naked soul, and tell
me what he is to you."

Taverner's will compelled her, and the veneer of today fell
away from her; the greater self that had come down through the
ages stirred, woke, and for the moment took control of the lesser
personality.

A man's life and the fate of two souls hung in the balance,
and Taverner forced the girl to face the issue.

"Look down into your deeper self and tell me what this man
is to you."

"Everything."

The girl faced him, breathing as if she had run a race.

"What will you do for him?"

"Everything."

"Think well before you pledge yourself, for if you bring that
soul back into the body and then fail it, you will have committed
a very grievous sin."

"I could not fail it if I tried," replied the girl. "Something
stronger than myself compels me."

"Then bid the soul re-enter the body and live again."

"Is he dead?"

"Not yet, but his life hangs by a thread. Look, you can see it."

We looked, and saw that the silvery strand of mist connected
the grey wraith with the body on the bed.

"How can I make him re-enter his body?"

"Focus your mind on the body and he will be attracted back
into it."

Slowly, hesitatingly, she bent over the unconscious man and
gathered the bruised and broken body into her arms. Then, as we
watched, the grey drifting mist drew nearer and was gradually
absorbed into the physical form.

Black and Elaine Tyndall were married from the nursing
home six weeks later, and left for their honeymoon in the racing
car that had been salved from the bushes. There was nothing
wrong with the steering gear.

As we returned to the house after watching their departure I
said to Taverner: "Most men would say you had mated a couple
of lunatics whose delusions happened to match."

"And most men would have certified the pair of them for an
asylum," replied Taverner. "All I have done has been to
recognize the working of two great natural laws, and you see the
result."

"How did you piece this story together?" I inquired. "It was
fairly simple," said Taverner, "as simple as human nature ever
is. You know my method. I believe that we have many lives and
can influence others by our thoughts, and I find that my belief
will often throw light where ordinary ideas fail.

"Now take the case of Black. The ordinary doctor would
have said it was his subconscious mind that was playing him
tricks; well, it might have been, so I took the trouble to read the
history of his past lives in what we call the Akashic Records,
where all thoughts are recorded. I found that in several previous
lives he had been associated with an individual of the opposite
sex, and that in his last life he had had the presumption to bid for
her favour when she was a princess of the Royal house and he
was a soldier of fortune.