—all were there, an atrocious sacrifice for every emotion of Man; all faded back into a hopeless lethargy at the sound of Wier's abominable voice and the sharp clap of his hands.
Wier played with them a long time, absorbed apparently with his observations, but in reality watching the effect of his experiment on me. He sat back in his chair, a huge, powerfully built man, nearly filling it. His motions were quick, catlike. His massive head bespoke a great intellect; his face, almost lost in the piercing gleam of his eyes, reflected his thoughts as vividly as the faces of his insane puppets reflected their only emotion.
He turned to me and smiled. It was difficult to realize that the loathsome expression I now saw was framed by the same mouth that had greeted me so pleasantly an hour before. He was a veritable Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, so complete was his transformation.
"There is your story! And now for your part. You are qualified to take it; you have been preparing all evening. Yes! I have arranged everything. I knew when I first met you that you would be susceptible to my treatment. And I was right! The pending storm was an excellent prelude for your sensitive nature; the self-opening door disturbed you, for you did not seem to realize that it was merely controlled by an electrical device; the maze gave stimulus to your ready imagination. Then being left alone; the discovery of the bodies in the sarcophagi; the vanishing of one of the cases and its reappearance, made possible by having a trap underneath; a bit of hypnotic influence from me; finding me where you expected nothing; this review we have just been holding—all these things have been undermining your intellect.
"Why, man!" he pronounced the words vehemently, rapping sharply on the table as he uttered each syllable, as if to give added emphasis, "you are even now on the brink of insanity. You shall go insane, and then I will train your mind until it is an absolute blank. Then I intend to develop a new emotion within you—one unknown to Mankind! Most enlightening! You should feel honored, sir, that you are chosen. Come, are you ready to begin?"
"Let me go!" I shrieked in a frenzy. "Let me go!"
"Quiet! or I must get another sarcophagus. I preserve those who die—silver-plate them by a process I have evolved. Some die—those who cannot release their grip on their intellects, and those I preserve forever in recognition of their wills. You, too, will die if you do not submit . . . ."
My brain was in a turmoil. Things spun dizzily before me, hazy fancies came to mind, irrelevant scence flashed through my brain. But up out of this chaos of ideas a thought struggled to the surface.
"The police," I said hoarsely, but with a new note of hope in my voice, "I will be missed!"
Wier smiled again his evil, triumphant smile.
"Yes, but you will be found. Tomorrow, a body mutilated beyond recognition, with your clothes and papers, will be found in the river. And your friends will wonder how it happened, and attend your funeral with heavy hearts."
He stretched his hand toward me. I leaped back. His words had extinguished all hope, but I was determined not to submit to his evil designs without a struggle. I now recognized fully the power of this pitiless demon, and though I realized that I merely furthered his ends by attempting to keep from him and refusing to give up, I could not bring myself to put an end to it then and there. The vision of the bodies in the mummy cases was too vividly fresh in my mind. And, too, the desire to live, to be free, was still mine.
Wier started after me. Something seemed to snap in my brain, and my conscious self stepped from the body that was mine, and stood aside, wondering.
Wier advanced; my body retreated. He followed, slowly, stealthily, like a cat not quite sure of his prey.
"YOU will become a part of the story," he chanted over and over in a monotonous tone. "Your senses fail you; your emotions are fading! The castles of your mind—the emotions—they are breaking! They crumble . . . . fall! I am the cause of the havoc! Ormond Wier! Acclaimed by men, and wrecker of their souls! You are forgetting . . . . you are forgetting . . . . forgetting . . . ."
The monotone of his voice wearied me. I felt tired and exhausted. My retreat before Wier's steady advance became wholly automatic. I considered all he said, and decided he was right. I was going insane. My emotions—the castles of my mind—were falling away; decaying. Still my body ran, still my conscious self stood aside and watched with acute interest.
Every detail of those awful moments struck with photographic distinctness. The building quivered with tension; a strange vibration filled the air. Without thinking of it, I realized that it was the spirit of the storm, broken at last. Still we circled about the room; still Wier chanted his monotonous words, and still he regarded me with that merciless fixed gaze of his.
"The castles of the mind! Reason! All the emotions! They crumble and fall . . . ."
"For God's sake!" I managed to gasp.
"God?" Wier stopped. "There is no God. If there were he would save you. He would have saved the others!" he concluded sneeringly, and took up his relentless pursuit once more. "The castles of the mind . . . ."
The strain was growing unbearable. With each passing second the tension in my brain grew greater. Little wonder! The gradual circling about the room, Wier's unceasing pursuit, the weird chant, his hypnotic gaze—all were the result of a carefully thought out plan; the result of experience and twelve failures—failures in which the happy victim had died!
"The castles of the mind . . . . they fall . . . . fall . . . ."
Still the atmosphere seemed charged with that strange vibration. But no murmur of the storm penetrated the study's soundproof walls; in my superacute state I merely sensed it, and knew that the elements sympathized.
"Reason! All the emotions . . . ."
Suddenly Fear rushed into the room, crying apprehensively. Wier hesitated and paled slightly. The wretch stopped, glanced about the room wildly, and rushed terror-stricken to Wier's side.
Wier's fist smashed into the unfortunate's face. His cries ceased instantly; he staggered, struck me in falling. The slight jar was sufficient to send me reeling, so completely had the mental strain drained my physical strength. My legs doubled beneath me; I fell to the floor and rolled under the colossal table.
My moment had come. I prayed fervently and waited for the end with wildly palpitating heart.
The building shook to its very foundations. Without warning, the silence was split into a billion sounds. It seemed as if all the uproar of creation had been concentrated in that one room. I thought that it was the last . . . . that the tumult marked the failing of my mind.
Bits of plaster showered on the table and rug about me. Larger pieces fell until it was a veritable rain of masonry. Wier cursed. The hanging lights crashed to the floor. The place was left in utter blackness. Slowly the plaster ceased to fall on the table above me, and gradually the room grew brighter. In the growing brilliance I could see Wier, stretched
