Brood of the Witch-Queen

oustache trimmed in the neat military fashion. For a fair man, he had eyes of a singular colour. They were of

ed him with that searching scrutiny peculiar to men of his pr

large hands upon his knees, with the fingers widely spread

e conversation, in

more, in my capacity of occultist

Lord Lashmore; "d

attending you for c

ed the high stock w

" he said. "Do you

d I must tr

h a powerful glass, examined the marks. One

k, standing before the small

esence in the room at the time of

y; on both

u see a

m was to

felt so

-I am speaking of the second outrag

y of som

bly th

l you saw

hape flitting away across the room; a white shape

wakened Lad

and this second shock proved too severe. Sir Elwin fears

und insensi

er own room, not that communicating with mine. She had evidentl

her own

her own

scovere

d

umming his finge

d Lashmore," he said su

ared across at the speaker wi

e a th

so. Am

ind him and his head lowered, looking out under his tufted eyebrows at Dr

ad a theory

me to seek confirmatio

mentioned your name. I am not quite clear upon one point, Dr. Cairn. Did h

I have made some study of what I may term psychical ailments. There is a chapter in your family hist

ore started in

t do yo

ssailed you. Circumstances have been in your favour thus far, but a recurrence is to be anticipat

cleared h

" he asked, with a queer interminglin

Mirza, wife of the t

orward. His large hands clenc

you know

in his voic

residence at the time. Mirza, Lady Lashmore, was evidently

61

n brought her t

lan

was a

ish Je

marriage, but the Baron out

is feet nervously, and

marriage," he snapped.

up momentarily. "We get to the fac

as no difficulty in suppressing the facts, arranging a hasty second marriage and representing the boy as the child of t

fruitful, the child of Mirza would ha

What do

he rightf

n Castle there is a secret chamber, which has engaged the pens of many so-called occultists, but which no man, save every heir, has entered for generations. It's very

lmly; "it is under the moat, some thirt

ur. When he spoke again hi

know-what i

urth Baron Lashmore, son of

elf in the big armchair, st

rom the night of my twenty-first birthday-the horror hung over me, Dr. Cairn. It ultimately brought my grandfather to the madhouse, but my fa

ty-first birthday that you were a

ashmore's face was twitching. "But you are about to hear what n

p again, r

d been prepared, for some weeks, by my father, for the ordeal that awaited me. Our family mystery is historical, and there were many fearful glances bestowed upon me, when, at

nt was upon Lashmore, but his

e, he locked the library door, and from a closet concealed beside the ancient fireplace-a closet which, hitherto, I had not known to

ultimately, making visible a considerable expanse of panelling. Nearly forty years had elapsed since that case had been removed, and

y father grasped it, turned it, and threw his weight against the seemingly solid wall. It yielded, swinging inward upon concealed hinges, and a

r flight of steps appeared beneath. At that time the old moat was still flooded, and even had I not divined as much from the direction of the steps, I should

massive, iron-studded door. My father placed the key in the lock, and hol

your fortit

ver-he was a strong man-his efforts were successful. The door opened, and an indescribable smell came

ed his brow with

g almost entirely over one wall of the cell which I perceived before me. I have learnt since that this was a s

e. My father halted at the entrance to this frightful cell; his hand, with which he held the la

eyes the dreadful face-the bearded, grinning face of Paul Dhoon. He lay there upon the floor of the dungeon, his fists clenched

His black hair was like a mane, long and matted, his eyebrows were incredibly heavy and his lashes overhung his cheekbones. The nails of

there he lay in the agonised attitude of one who had died by such awful means. Yet-tha

ace my fellow-men for days afterwards. Dr. Cairn, for three years I feared-feared the world-f