The Magician by W. Somerset Maugham (ebook reader macos TXT) 📕

And still he pressed with those iron hands. And now the movements were strangely convulsive. His victim writhed in the agony of death. His struggles were desperate, but the avenging hands held him as in a vice. And then the movements grew spasmodic, and then they grew weaker. Still the hands pressed upon the gigantic throat, and Arthur forgot everything. He was mad with rage and fury and hate and sorrow. He thought of Margaret’s anguish and of her fiendish torture, and he wished the man had ten lives so that he might take them one by one. And at last all was still, and that vast mass of flesh was motionless, and he knew that his enemy was dead. He loosened his grasp and slipped one hand over the heart. It would never beat again. The man was stone dead. Arthur got up and straightened himself. The darkness was intense still, and he could see nothing. Susie heard him, and at length she was able to speak.

“Arthur what have you done?”

“I’ve killed him,” he said hoarsely.

“O God, what shall we do?”

Arthur began to laugh aloud, hysterically, and in the darkness his hilarity was terrifying.

“For God’s sake let us have some light.”

“I’ve found the matches,” said Dr. Porhoët.

He seemed to awake suddenly from his long stupor. He struck one, and it would not light. He struck another, and Susie took off the globe and the chimney as he kindled the wick. Then he held up the lamp, and they saw Arthur looking at them. His face was ghastly. The sweat ran off his forehead in great beads, and his eyes were bloodshot. He trembled in every limb. Then Dr. Porhoët advanced with the lamp and held it forward. They looked down on the floor for the man who lay there dead. Susie gave a sudden cry of horror.

There was no one there.

Arthur stepped back in terrified surprise. There was no one in the room, living or dead, but the three friends. The ground sank under Susie’s feet, she felt horribly ill, and she fainted. When she awoke, seeming difficultly to emerge from an eternal night, Arthur was holding down her head.

“Bend down,” he said. “Bend down.”

All that had happened came back to her, and she burst into tears. Her self-control deserted her, and, clinging to him for protection, she sobbed as though her heart would break. She was shaking from head to foot. The strangeness of this last horror had overcome her, and she could have shrieked with fright.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You need not be afraid.”

“Oh, what does it mean?”

“You must pluck up courage. We’re going now to Skene.”

She sprang to her feet, as though to get away from him; her heart beat wildly.

“No, I can’t; I’m frightened.”

“We must see what it means. We have no time to lose, or the morning will be upon us before we get back.”

Then she sought to prevent him.

“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t go, Arthur. Something awful may await you there. Don’t risk your life.”

“There is no danger. I tell you the man is dead.”

“If anything happened to you⁠ ⁠…”

She stopped, trying to restrain her sobs; she dared not go on. But he seemed to know what was in her mind.

“I will take no risks, because of you. I know that whether I live or die is not a⁠—matter of indifference to you.”

She looked up and saw that his eyes were fixed upon her gravely. She reddened. A curious feeling came into her heart.

“I will go with you wherever you choose,” she said humbly.

“Come, then.”

They stepped out into the night. And now, without rain, the storm had passed away, and the stars were shining. They walked quickly. Arthur went in front of them. Dr. Porhoët and Susie followed him, side by side, and they had to hasten their steps in order not to be left behind. It seemed to them that the horror of the night was passed, and there was a fragrancy in the air which was wonderfully refreshing. The sky was beautiful. And at last they came to Skene. Arthur led them again to the opening in the palisade, and he took Susie’s hand. Presently they stood in the place from which a few days before they had seen the house. As then, it stood in massive blackness against the night and, as then, the attic windows shone out with brilliant lights. Susie started, for she had expected that the whole place would be in darkness.

“There is no danger, I promise you,” said Arthur gently. “We are going to find out the meaning of all this mystery.”

He began to walk towards the house.

“Have you a weapon of some sort?” asked the doctor.

Arthur handed him a revolver.

“Take this. It will reassure you, but you will have no need of it. I bought it the other day when⁠—I had other plans.”

Susie gave a little shudder. They reached the drive and walked to the great portico which adorned the façade of the house. Arthur tried the handle, but it would not open.

“Will you wait here?” he said. “I can get through one of the windows, and I will let you in.”

He left them. They stood quietly there, with anxious hearts; they could not guess what they would see. They were afraid that something would happen to Arthur, and Susie regretted that she had not insisted on going with him. Suddenly she remembered that awful moment when the light of the lamp had been thrown where all expected to see a body, and there was nothing.

“What do you think it meant?” she cried suddenly. “What is the explanation?”

“Perhaps we shall see now,” answered the doctor.

Arthur still lingered, and she could not imagine what had become of him. All sorts of horrible fancies passed through her mind, and she dreaded she knew not what. At last they heard a footstep inside the house, and the door was opened.

“I was convinced that nobody slept here, but I was obliged to make sure. I had some difficulty in getting in.”

Susie hesitated