Page:Weird Tales Volume 27 Issue 01 (1936-01).djvu/32

30 the older woman was not in nightclothes; she was fully dressed! In the darkness of the far corners of the room, Monica saw also two vague shadowy shapes regarding her with eyes that seemed to glow greenly in the night. She took a hesitant step forward.

"Aunt Susan," she faltered.

The older woman turned.

Monica stood rooted, the glass of water slipping from her nerveless fingers. She did not hear the crash it made as it broke on the floor. The face that looked at her in the green glow of the bed-lamp, the face that peered evilly at her from the foot of the bed, was the face of her dead Aunt Juliet!

Even as she stared wide-eyed, the face faded into the dark, and the figure crumpled oddly into nothing. The two figures in the background vanished, too. Monica stepped uncertainly forward, putting out a shaking hand to steady herself against the foot of the bed. A door closed somewhere in the house. There were footsteps in the hall, and in a moment Aunt Susan had come into the room and was standing at Monica's side asking, "Is anything the matter? What is it? I declare, your face is white as a sheet!"

Monica shook her head. "It was nothing," she said with an effort. "I felt a little faint, and dropped the glass."

She drew herself together and walked around to the side of the bed, where she sat down.

"Sure you're all right?" asked the older woman.

"Quite sure, Aunt Susan. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

Monica drew the covers up around her and lay back against the pillows, hoping she had hidden the wild beating of her heart. The older woman looked at her hesitantly for a moment, standing white and apprehensive in her long nightgown; then she turned and went toward the door.

"Good night, Monica. If anything goes wrong, please call me."

She closed the door behind her.

Monica stared about her into the dimly lit darkness. For a long time she could not bring herself to go to sleep, but at last she slept. She left the bed-lamp burning.

awoke abruptly after a terrifying dream. She had been alone in a strange, dark building, like an ancient castle, wandering in its damp corridors, lost. Then suddenly there were three malevolent white figures before her, and in a moment she was struggling desperately with something impalpable, something she could not grasp, something that was smothering her. And then in her dream she had seen a great, horrible face bending close to hers, and vague, shadowy arms enfolding her. One of her hands was free, and she tore wildly at the yellow face pressed so close to her own. At last the face had come away in her hands, and she saw that it was half Aunt Juliet's, and half another woman's, and yet it was the satin mask, writhing and alive. It was then that she awoke.

She lay trembling. The dream had frightened her, but little by little her courage came back. The bed-lamp was still on, but she felt oddly weak, and was conscious of some force outside herself directing her. She was aware abruptly of an impelling urge to get the satin mask from its loneliness in that locked room.

Not entirely without reluctance, she got out of bed and stood indecisively on the thick rug. She caught her breath momentarily at the odd weakness that assailed her, but in a few seconds this weakness had passed. The urge to see the mask came on again, overpowering her reluctance.

She went softly out into the hall and