Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 2 (1925-02).djvu/42

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THE TOMB-DWELLER
41

decided to dispose of it. We sold it and settled on a plantation in a thinly populated part of Georgia.

"The neighbors were few and far between, but we enjoyed the seclusion and my health seemed improved by the change. I had taken treatment, and hadn't had a cataleptic attack for several years. I had great hopes that I was cured or had outgrown the trouble entirely. Then the dreaded blow fell like a bolt from the blue. I was pronounced dead while in the throes of an attack of more severity than any previous one. The physician who was called knew nothing of my former attacks and declared me a victim of heart failure.

"Shortly after moving to our new home, Ronald and I had fallen in love with the attractive daughter of our nearest neighbor. She had found it difficult to decide which was which of us, as Ronald and I were identical in appearance, but love had found a way and the girl we both loved had promised to be my wife.

"As soon as we became engaged, she had tried to discourage the attentions of my brother, in as kind a manner as she could, but I became the object of his most violent anger and from that time on it was very hard for me to get along with him.

"Thus it was that our relations were rather strained at the time I was stricken, which was a month after my engagement. The horrible fate that had dogged my footsteps for so many years fell upon me when least expected.

"It is impossible for me to describe fully the anguish of mind I experienced while being prepared for and awaiting burial. If you have ever been in the paralyzing clutches of a nightmare and helplessly watched the approach of some awful doom, you may have a faint conception of the agony I passed through.

"Each hideous detail of my ghastly plight tortured me without mercy. I imagined the lowering of my body into the grave—the hollow thud of the clods that followed it. The smell of the dank, cold earth rose in my nostrils. I felt the creeping of the slimy worms that would soon rob me of human semblance. The ordeal of slow suffocation in abysmal darkness flaunted its horrors before me. Grim death leered and beckoned, and I knew there was no one that would save me.

"On that fatal morning I could hear the old negro wench, who acted as our housekeeper, as she shuffled about crooning dismally, dusting and arranging the chairs in the seldom-used parlor where my coffin had been placed to await the funeral service which was to be held that afternoon.

"My brother came in several times and stood silently beside me. I felt that he was thinking he would now have clear sailing and could win my sweetheart, but I didn't think then that he was really glad I was dead. I couldn't believe that my own brother had reached that point in his hatred of me. But I was soon to know the worst.


"AT RONALD'S request the few neighbors who had gathered at the news of my death returned to their homes, and our old servant left the house to go to the village for supplies. Ronald gave her permission to stay until evening, as her daughter who lived there was ill. Then he seated himself in a room adjoining the parlor and everything became very quiet.

"God! how I prayed for power to move or to speak! Only a few hours remained before my burial would take place unless I could prevent it. After a time my brother came into the parlor again. As he did so, some one outside whistled sharply. The day was cool and stormy and the windows were closed. Ronald crossed the room, apparently to look out, and said, "Go around to the side door."