"By the use of some device which would create a proper field or form a receiving-station, it should be possible to evoke this absolute evil. Under such conditions, I am sure that the dark vibration would become a visible and tangible thing, comparable to light or electricity." He eyed me with a gaze that was disconcertingly exigent. Then:
"I will confess that I purchased this old mansion and its grounds mainly on account of their baleful history. The place is unusually liable to the influences of which I have spoken. I am now at work on an apparatus by means of which, when it is perfected, I hope to manifest in their essential purity the radiations of malign force."
At this moment, the mulatress entered and passed through the room on some household errand. I thought that she gave Averaud a look of maternal tenderness, watchfulness and anxiety. He, on his part, seemed hardly to be aware of her presence, so engrossed was he in the strange ideas and the stranger project he had been expounding. However, when she had gone, he remarked:
"That is Fifine, the one human being who is really attached to me. She is mute, but highly intelligent and affectionate. All my people, an old Louisiana family, are long departed. . . and my wife is doubly dead to me." A spasm of obscure pain contracted his features, and vanished. He resumed his monologue; and at no future time did he again refer to the presumably tragic tale at which he had hinted: a tale in which, I sometimes suspect, were hidden the seeds of the strange moral and mental perversion which he was to manifest more and more.
I took my leave, after promising to return for another talk. Of course, I considered now that Averaud was a madman: but his madness was of a most uncommon and picturesque variety. It seemed significant that he should have chosen me for a confidant. All others who met him found him uncommunicative and taciturn to an extreme degree. I suppose he had felt the ordinary human need of unburdening himself to someone; and had selected me as the only person in the neighborhood who was potentially sympathetic.
I saw him several times during
the month that followed. He
was indeed a strange psychological
study; and I encouraged him to talk
without reserve—though such encouragement
was hardly necessary.
There was much that he told me—a
strange medley of the scientific and
the mystic. I assented tactfully to
all that he said, but ventured to point
out the possible dangers of his evocative
experiments, if they should
prove successful. To this, with the
fervor of an alchemist or a religious
devotee, he replied that it did not
matter—that he was prepared to accept
any and all consequences.
More than once he gave me to understand that his invention was progressing favorably. And one day he said, with abruptness:
"I will show you my mechanism, if you care to see it."
I protested my eagerness to view the invention, and he led me forthwith into a room to which I had not been admitted before. The chamber was large, triangular in form, and tapestried with curtains of some sullen black fabric. It had no windows. Clearly, the internal structure of the house had been changed in making it; and the queer village tales, emanating from carpenters who had been hired to do the work, were now
