I tell you, that no one who has not been through
these kinds of experiences, has any idea of the sheer, actual physical
pain attendant upon, and resulting from, the intense nerve strain that
ghostly fright sets up in the human system. I stood there feeling
positively ill. But I got myself in hand, as it were, in about half a
minute, and then I went, walking, I expect, as jerky as a mechanical tin
man, and switching the light from side to side, before and behind, and
over my head continually. And the hand that held my revolver sweated so
much, that the thing fairly slipped in my fist. Does not sound very
heroic, does it? "I passed through the short chancel, and reached the step that led up to
the small gate in the chancel rail. I threw the beam from my lantern
upon the dagger. Yes, I thought, it's all right. Abruptly, it seemed to
me that there was something wanting, and I leaned forward over the
chancel gate to peer, holding the light high. My suspicion was hideously
correct. _The dagger had gone._ Only the cross-shaped sheath hung there
above the altar. "In a sudden, frightened flash of imagination, I pictured the thing
adrift in the Chapel, moving here and there, as though of its own
volition; for whatever Force wielded it, was certainly beyond
visibility. I turned my head stiffly over to the left, glancing
frightenedly behind me, and flashing the light to help my eyes. In the
same instant I was struck a tremendous blow over the left breast, and
hurled backward from the chancel rail, into the aisle, my armor clanging
loudly in the horrible silence. I landed on my back, and slithered along
on the polished marble. My shoulder struck the corner of a pew front,
and brought me up, half stunned. I scrambled to my feet, horribly sick
and shaken; but the fear that was on me, making little of that at the
moment. I was minus both revolver and lantern, and utterly bewildered as
to just where I was standing. I bowed my head, and made a scrambling run
in the complete darkness and dashed into a pew. I jumped back,
staggering, got my bearings a little, and raced down the center of the
aisle, putting my mailed arms over my face. I plunged into my camera,
hurling it among the pews. I crashed into the font, and reeled back. Then I was at the exit. I fumbled madly in my dressing gown pocket for
the key. I found it and scraped at the door, feverishly, for the
keyhole. I found the keyhole, turned the key, burst the door open, and
was into the passage. I slammed the door and leant hard against it,
gasping, whilst I felt crazily again for the keyhole, this time to lock
the door upon what was in the Chapel. I succeeded, and began to feel my
way stupidly along the wall of the corridor. Presently I had come to the
big hall, and so in a little to my room. "In my room, I sat for a while, until I had steadied down something
to the normal. After a time I commenced to strip off the armor. I saw
then that both the chain mail and the plate armor had been pierced
over the breast. And, suddenly, it came home to me that the Thing had
struck for my heart. "Stripping rapidly, I found that the skin of the breast over the heart
had just been cut sufficiently to allow a little blood to stain my shirt,
nothing more. Only, the whole breast was badly bruised and intensely
painful. You can imagine what would have happened if I had not worn the
armor. In any case, it is a marvel that I was not knocked senseless. "I did not go to bed at all that night, but sat upon the edge, thinking,
and waiting for the dawn; for I had to remove my litter before Sir Alfred
Jarnock should enter, if I were to hide from him the fact that I had
managed a duplicate key. "So soon as the pale light of the morning had strengthened sufficiently
to show me the various details of my room, I made my way quietly down to
the Chapel. Very silently, and with tense nerves, I opened the door. The
chill light of the dawn made distinct the whole place--everything seeming
instinct with a ghostly, unearthly quiet. Can you get the feeling? I
waited several minutes at the door, allowing the morning to grow, and
likewise my courage, I suppose. Presently the rising sun threw an odd
beam right in through the big, East window, making colored sunshine all
the length of the Chapel. And then, with a tremendous effort, I forced
myself to enter. "I went up the aisle to where I had overthrown my camera in the darkness. The legs of the tripod were sticking up from the interior of a pew, and I
expected to find the machine smashed to pieces; yet, beyond that the
ground glass was broken, there was no real damage done. "I replaced the camera in the position from which I had taken the
previous photography; but the slide containing the plate I had exposed by
flashlight I removed and put into one of my side pockets, regretting that
I had not taken a second flash picture at the instant when I heard those
strange sounds up in the chancel. "Having tidied my photographic apparatus, I went to the chancel to
recover my lantern and revolver, which had both--as you know--been
knocked from my hands when I was stabbed. I found the lantern lying,
hopelessly bent, with smashed lens, just under the pulpit. My revolver I
must have held until my shoulder struck the pew, for it was lying there
in the aisle, just about where I believe I cannoned into the pew corner. It was quite undamaged. "Having secured these two articles, I walked up to the chancel rail to
see whether the dagger had returned, or been returned, to its sheath
above the altar. Before, however, I reached the chancel rail, I had a
slight shock; for there on the floor of the chancel, about a yard away
from where I had been struck, lay the dagger, quiet and demure upon the
polished marble pavement. I wonder whether you will, any of you,
understand the nervousness that took me at the sight of the thing. With a
sudden, unreasoned action, I jumped forward and put my foot on it, to
hold it there. Can you understand? Do you? And, you know, I could not
stoop down and pick it up with my hands for quite a minute, I should
think. Afterward, when I had done so, however, and handled it a little,
this feeling passed away and my Reason (and also, I expect, the daylight)
made me feel that I had been a little bit of an ass. Quite natural,
though, I assure you! Yet it was a new kind of fear to me. I'm taking no
notice of the cheap joke about the ass! I am talking about the
curiousness of learning in that moment a new shade or quality of fear
that had hitherto been outside of my knowledge or imagination. Does it
interest you? "I examined the dagger, minutely, turning it over and over in my hands
and never--as I suddenly discovered--holding it loosely. It was as if I
were subconsciously surprised that it lay quiet in my hands. Yet even
this feeling passed, largely, after a short while.