Four Weird Tales | Page 8

that his eyes began to burn and smart, and he
was conscious of a desire to shed tears.
The key made a harsh noise as it turned in the lock, and when the door swung open into a

lofty hall they heard a confused sound of rustling and whispering, as of a great throng of
people pressing forward to meet them. The air seemed full of swaying movement, and
Jones was certain he saw hands held aloft and dim faces claiming recognition, while in
his heart, already oppressed by the approaching burden of vast accumulated memories, he
was aware of the uncoiling of something that had been asleep for ages.
As they advanced he heard the doors close with a muffled thunder behind them, and saw
that the shadows seemed to retreat and shrink away towards the interior of the house,
carrying the hands and faces with them. He heard the wind singing round the walls and
over the roof, and its wailing voice mingled with the sound of deep, collective breathing
that filled the house like the murmur of a sea; and as they walked up the broad staircase
and through the vaulted rooms, where pillars rose like the stems of trees, he knew that the
building was crowded, row upon row, with the thronging memories of his own long past.
"This is the House of the Past," whispered Thorpe beside him, as they moved silently
from room to room; "the house of your past. It is full from cellar to roof with the
memories of what you have done, thought, and felt from the earliest stages of your
evolution until now.
"The house climbs up almost to the clouds, and stretches back into the heart of the wood
you saw outside, but the remoter halls are filled with the ghosts of ages ago too many to
count, and even if we were able to waken them you could not remember them now. Some
day, though, they will come and claim you, and you must know them, and answer their
questions, for they can never rest till they have exhausted themselves again through you,
and justice has been perfectly worked out.
"But now follow me closely, and you shall see the particular memory for which I am
permitted to be your guide, so that you may know and understand a great force in your
present life, and may use the sword of justice, or rise to the level of a great forgiveness,
according to your degree of power."
Icy thrills ran through the trembling clerk, and as he walked slowly beside his companion
he heard from the vaults below, as well as from more distant regions of the vast building,
the stirring and sighing of the serried ranks of sleepers, sounding in the still air like a
chord swept from unseen strings stretched somewhere among the very foundations of the
house.
Stealthily, picking their way among the great pillars, they moved up the sweeping
staircase and through several dark corridors and halls, and presently stopped outside a
small door in an archway where the shadows were very deep.
"Remain close by my side, and remember to utter no cry," whispered the voice of his
guide, and as the clerk turned to reply he saw his face was stern to whiteness and even
shone a little in the darkness.
The room they entered seemed at first to be pitchy black, but gradually the secretary
perceived a faint reddish glow against the farther end, and thought he saw figures moving
silently to and fro.

"Now watch!" whispered Thorpe, as they pressed close to the wall near the door and
waited. "But remember to keep absolute silence. It is a torture scene."
Jones felt utterly afraid, and would have turned to fly if he dared, for an indescribable
terror seized him and his knees shook; but some power that made escape impossible held
him remorselessly there, and with eyes glued on the spots of light he crouched against the
wall and waited.
The figures began to move more swiftly, each in its own dim light that shed no radiance
beyond itself, and he heard a soft clanking of chains and the voice of a man groaning in
pain. Then came the sound of a door closing, and thereafter Jones saw but one figure, the
figure of an old man, naked entirely, and fastened with chains to an iron framework on
the floor. His memory gave a sudden leap of fear as he looked, for the features and white
beard were familiar, and he recalled them as though of yesterday.
The other figures had disappeared, and the old man became the centre of the terrible
picture. Slowly, with ghastly groans; as the heat below him increased into a steady glow,
the aged body rose in