The oriental stood with arms folded and
head bowed at the head of the table, nor did it then strike me as being
strange that he should stand there, instead of Conrad who was to read
what Grimlan had written. I found my gaze drawn to the figure worked
on the breast of the stranger's robe, in black silk--a curious figure,
somewhat resembling a peacock and somewhat resembling a bat, or a
flying dragon. I noted with a start that the same design was worked on
the robe covering the corpse. *       *       *       *       *

The doors had been locked, the windows fastened down. Conrad, with a
shaky hand, opened the inner envelope and fluttered open the parchment
sheets contained therein. These sheets seemed much older than those
containing the instructions to Conrad, in the larger envelope. Conrad
began to read in a monotonous drone which had the effect of hypnosis on
the hearer; so at times the candles grew dim in my gaze and the room
and its occupants swam strange and monstrous, veiled and distorted like
an hallucination. Most of what he read was gibberish; it meant nothing;
yet the sound of it and the archaic style of it filled me with an
intolerable horror. "To ye contract elsewhere recorded, I, John Grymlann, herebye sweare
by ye Name of ye Nameless One to keep goode faithe. Wherefore do I now
write in blood these wordes spoken to me in thys grim & silent chamber
in ye dedde citie of Koth, whereto no mortal manne hath attained but
mee. These same wordes now writ down by mee to be rede over my bodie
at ye appointed tyme to fulfill my parte of ye bargain which I entered
intoe of mine own free will & knowledge beinge of rite mynd & fiftie
years of age this yeare of 1680, A.D. Here begynneth ye incantation:

"Before manne was, ye Elder ones were, & even yet their lord dwelleth
amonge ye shadows to which if a manne sette his foote he maye not turn
vpon his track." The words merged into a barbaric gibberish as Conrad stumbled through
an unfamiliar language--a language faintly suggesting the Phenician,
but shuddery with the touch of a hideous antiquity beyond any
remembered earthly tongue. One of the candles flickered and went out. I made a move to relight it, but a motion from the silent oriental
stayed me. His eyes burned into mine, then shifted back to the still
form on the table. The manuscript had shifted back into its archaic English.

" ----And ye mortal which gaineth to ye black citadels of Koth & speaks
with ye Darke Lord whose face is hidden, for a price maye he gain hys
heartes desire, ryches & knowledge beyond countinge & lyffe beyond
mortal span even two hundred & fiftie yeares." Again Conrad's voice trailed off into unfamiliar gutturals. Another
candle went out.

" ----Let not ye mortal flynche as ye tyme draweth nigh for payement &
ye fires of Hell laye hold vpon ye vytals as the sign of reckoninge. For ye Prince of Darkness taketh hys due in ye endde & he is not to bee
cozened. What ye have promised, that shall ye deliver. _Augantha na
shuba_----"

At the first sound of those barbaric accents, a cold hand of terror
locked about my throat. My frantic eyes shot to the candles and I was
not surprized to see another flicker out. Yet there was no hint of any
draft to stir the heavy black hangings. Conrad's voice wavered; he
drew his hand across his throat, gagging momentarily. The eyes of the
oriental never altered.

" ----Amonge ye sonnes of men glide strange shadows for ever. Men see
ye tracks of ye talones but not ye feete that make them. Over ye souls
of men spread great black wingges. There is but one Black Master
though men calle hym Sathanas & Beelzebub & Apolleon & Ahriman & Malik
Tous----"

       *       *       *       *       *

Mists of horror engulfed me. I was dimly aware of Conrad's voice
droning on and on, both in English and in that other fearsome tongue
whose horrific import I scarcely dared try to guess. And with stark
fear clutching at my heart, I saw the candles go out, one by one. And
with each flicker, as the gathering gloom darkened about us, my horror
mounted. I could not speak, I could not move; my distended eyes were
fixed with agonized intensity on the remaining candle. The silent
oriental at the head of that ghastly table was included in my fear. He
had not moved nor spoken, but under his drooping lids, his eyes burned
with devilish triumph; I knew that beneath his inscrutable exterior he
was gloating fiendishly--but why--_why?_

[Illustration: "With stark fear clutching at his heart he saw the
candles go out, one by one."] But I _knew_ that the moment the extinguishing of the last candle
plunged the room into utter darkness, some nameless, abominable thing
would take place. Conrad was approaching the end. His voice rose to the
climax in gathering crescendo. "Approacheth now ye moment of payement. Ye ravens are flying. Ye bats
winge against ye skye. There are skulls in ye starres. Ye soul & ye
bodie are promised and shall bee delivered uppe. Not to ye dust agayne
nor ye elements from which springe lyfe----"

The candle flickered slightly. I tried to scream, but my mouth gaped to
a soundless yammering. I tried to flee, but I stood frozen, unable even
to close my eyes.

" ----Ye abysse yawns & ye debt is to paye. Ye light fayles, ye shadows
gather. There is no god but evil; no lite but darkness; no hope but
doom----"

A hollow groan resounded through the room. _It seemed to come from the
robe-covered thing on the table!_ That robe twitched fitfully. "Oh winges in ye black darke!" I started violently; a faint swish sounded in the gathering shadows. The stir of the dark hangings? It sounded like the rustle of gigantic
wings. "Oh redde eyes in ye shadows! What is promised, what is writ in bloode
is fulfilled! Ye lite is gulfed in blackness! Ya--Koth!" The last candle went out suddenly and a ghastly unhuman cry that came
not from my lips or from Conrad's burst unbearably forth. Horror
swept over me like a black icy wave; in the blind dark I heard myself
screaming terribly. Then with a swirl and a great rush of wind
something swept the room, flinging the hangings aloft and dashing
chairs and tables crashing to the floor. For an instant an intolerable
odor burned our nostrils, a low hideous tittering mocked us in the
blackness; then silence fell like a shroud. Somehow, Conrad found a candle and lighted it. The faint glow showed us
the room in fearful disarray--showed us each other's ghastly faces--and
showed us the black ebony table--empty! The doors and windows were
locked as they had been, but the oriental was gone--and so was the
corpse of John Grimlan. Shrieking like damned men we broke down the door and fled frenziedly
down the well-like staircase where the darkness seemed to clutch at us
with clammy black fingers. As we tumbled down into the lower hallway,
a lurid glow cut the darkness and the scent of burning wood filled our
nostrils.