And
there we stood a moment, silent. "'Come down out of this, and have some whisky,' said Tassoc, at last, in
a voice he tried to make ordinary; and he led the way. I was the back
man, and I know we all kept looking over our shoulders. When we got
downstairs, Tassoc passed the bottle 'round. He took a drink, himself,
and slapped his glass down on to the table. Then sat down with a thud. "'That's a lovely thing to have in the house with you, isn't it!' he
said. And directly afterward:--'What on earth made you hustle us all out
like that, Carnacki?' "'Something seemed to be telling me to get out, quick,' I said. 'Sounds a
bit silly, superstitious, I know; but when you are meddling with this
sort of thing, you've got to take notice of queer fancies, and risk being
laughed at.' "I told him then about the 'Grey Dog' business, and he nodded a lot to
that. 'Of course,' I said, 'this may be nothing more than those would-be
rivals of yours playing some funny game; but, personally, though I'm
going to keep an open mind, I feel that there is something beastly and
dangerous about this thing.' "We talked for a while longer, and then Tassoc suggested billiards, which
we played in a pretty half-hearted fashion, and all the time cocking an
ear to the door, as you might say, for sounds; but none came, and later,
after coffee, he suggested early bed, and a thorough overhaul of the room
on the morrow. "My bedroom was in the newer part of the castle, and the door opened into
the picture gallery. At the East end of the gallery was the entrance to
the corridor of the East Wing; this was shut off from the gallery by two
old and heavy oak doors, which looked rather odd and quaint beside the
more modern doors of the various rooms. "When I reached my room, I did not go to bed; but began to unpack my
instrument trunk, of which I had retained the key. I intended to take one
or two preliminary steps at once, in my investigation of the
extraordinary whistling. "Presently, when the castle had settled into quietness, I slipped out of
my room, and across to the entrance of the great corridor. I opened one
of the low, squat doors, and threw the beam of my pocket searchlight
down the passage. It was empty, and I went through the doorway, and
pushed-to the oak behind me. Then along the great passageway, throwing my
light before and behind, and keeping my revolver handy. "I had hung a 'protection belt' of garlic 'round my neck, and the smell
of it seemed to fill the corridor and give me assurance; for, as you all
know, it is a wonderful 'protection' against the more usual Aeiirii forms
of semi-materialization, by which I supposed the whistling might be
produced; though, at that period of my investigation, I was quite
prepared to find it due to some perfectly natural cause; for it is
astonishing the enormous number of cases that prove to have nothing
abnormal in them. "In addition to wearing the necklet, I had plugged my ears loosely with
garlic, and as I did not intend to stay more than a few minutes in the
room, I hoped to be safe. "When I reached the door, and put my hand into my pocket for the key, I
had a sudden feeling of sickening funk. But I was not going to back out,
if I could help it. I unlocked the door and turned the handle. Then I
gave the door a sharp push with my foot, as Tassoc had done, and drew my
revolver, though I did not expect to have any use for it, really. "I shone the searchlight all 'round the room, and then stepped inside,
with a disgustingly horrible feeling of walking slap into a waiting
Danger. I stood a few seconds, waiting, and nothing happened, and the
empty room showed bare from corner to corner. And then, you know, I
realized that the room was full of an abominable silence; can you
understand that? A sort of purposeful silence, just as sickening as any
of the filthy noises the Things have power to make. Do you remember what
I told you about that 'Silent Garden' business? Well, this room had just
that same _malevolent_ silence--the beastly quietness of a thing that is
looking at you and not seeable itself, and thinks that it has got you. Oh, I recognized it instantly, and I whipped the top off my lantern, so
as to have light over the _whole_ room. "Then I set-to, working like fury, and keeping my glance all about me. I
sealed the two windows with lengths of human hair, right across, and
sealed them at every frame. As I worked, a queer, scarcely perceptible
tenseness stole into the air of the place, and the silence seemed, if you
can understand me, to grow more solid. I knew then that I had no business
there without 'full protection'; for I was practically certain that this
was no mere Aeiirii development; but one of the worst forms, as the
Saiitii; like that 'Grunting Man' case--you know. "I finished the window, and hurried over to the great fireplace. This is
a huge affair, and has a queer gallows-iron, I think they are called,
projecting from the back of the arch. I sealed the opening with seven
human hairs--the seventh crossing the six others. "Then, just as I was making an end, a low, mocking whistle grew in the
room. A cold, nervous pricking went up my spine, and 'round my forehead
from the back. The hideous sound filled all the room with an
extraordinary, grotesque parody of human whistling, too gigantic to be
human--as if something gargantuan and monstrous made the sounds softly. As I stood there a last moment, pressing down the final seal, I had no
doubt but that I had come across one of those rare and horrible cases of
the _Inanimate_ reproducing the functions of the _Animate_, I made a
grab for my lamp, and went quickly to the door, looking over my
shoulder, and listening for the thing that I expected. It came, just as
I got my hand upon the handle--a squeal of incredible, malevolent anger,
piercing through the low hooning of the whistling. I dashed out,
slamming the door and locking it. I leant a little against the opposite
wall of the corridor, feeling rather funny; for it had been a narrow
squeak.... 'Theyr be noe sayfetie to be gained bye gayrds of holieness
when the monyster hath pow'r to speak throe woode and stoene.' So runs
the passage in the Sigsand MS., and I proved it in that 'Nodding Door'
business. There is no protection against this particular form of
monster, except, possibly, for a fractional period of time; for it can
reproduce itself in, or take to its purpose, the very protective
material which you may use, and has the power to '_forme_ wythine the
pentycle'; though not immediately. There is, of course, the possibility
of the Unknown Last Line of the Saaamaaa Ritual being uttered; but it is
too uncertain to count upon, and the danger is too hideous; and even
then it has no power to protect for more than 'maybee fyve beats of the
harte,' as the Sigsand has it.