Page:Weird Tales Volume 10 Number 1 (1927-07).djvu/9

 the thought that once a thing of other spaces had been so close to me that I had hobnobbed in ignorance with the descendant of a fiend, and I surrounded myself with weird and occult literature of many kinds. I steeped myself in lycanthropical lore, I drowned my common sense in fan¬ tastic legend, myth, and fable, I be¬ came a reeluse, living alone with my books and a single servant.

One evening late in March, I was speculating idly upon the peculiar recurrence .in a work on philology that I had just finished, of the name Garnier, Grenier, or Gangere, which the writer had connected often with the loup-garou, or werewolf.

“What a peculiar coincidence,” I thought, “that Pierre’s surname should be one of these! I could tell that writer something that would interest him much,” for I had not formerly revealed Pierre’s name in full.

While I still smiled, on the heels of the furtive thought came a tapping on the door, and I heard Parker shuffling down the hall. Soon he re¬ turned, in his hand an envelope of yellow.

“A telegram, sir,” he said, re¬ spectfully. “Willie Thoms brought it from the town, as the station agent believed it was urgent.”

“Very well,” I said, extending my hand for the message. “Give the boy a quarter, and let me alone,” for I disliked being disturbed and Parker kuv»v this well.

As he closed the study door, I tore open the envelope and found that which led to the most horrid adven¬ ture I had ever yet encountered in fact or fiction. It began :

Monsieur M	:

You will know without names who this is from. If you would aid an old friend in the direst of peril come at once to the inn that you know of. I feel that only you can save. In God’s name, old friend, come at once; a week’s delay may be too late.

P. G.

My first emotion was one of glad¬ ness. Pierre lived, and I should see him again. For the first time in months I felt cheery. But on re¬ reading the cablegram, which had been relayed by wire from the ter¬ minal, I was struck by the agonized tone of the message, so foreign to Pierre’s usually placid demeanor. Pierre was in danger, I was needed at once! Again I read, “a week’s de¬ lay may be too late.”

I rang for Parker, and when he came in sight at the end of the hall, called, “Pack my trunks at once. I leave on the morning train.” With¬ out waiting for a reply or question I shut the door, and prepared myself for bed.

2.	The Man on the Train

not necessary to burden this narrative with minute details of the journey, for it will be lengthy enough at best. Suffice it then to mention only that the ride to Boston was without event, as also was the trip to Paris. I chafed and fretted, spending most of the time as far in the bow as I could place myself, as though I would be nearer to the jour¬ ney’s end than any other. I was first down the gang-plank, and in an hour’s time was on the train, and on the last stage toward my goal.

It is necessary to change trains about ten miles out of Paris, and although I had a whole compartment to myself on the first train, the sec¬ ond time I was not so fortunate. I ran down the platform, but all the compartments were closed, signifying that no space remained, and as thé wheels commenced to turn I dis¬ covered a hand that beckoned from a door. As it reached me I flung in my grip, scrambled in myself and shut the door.

There were two occupants already in the carriage, a slender woman gowned in black, who wore a veil that