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Polaris, v. 2, issue 2, June 1941
Page 4
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4 THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR by Duane W Rimel Simms was interrupted reading the paper by a rap on the door. He hesitated a moment, uncertain as to whether the noise had been real or imaginary, for midnight visitors were unusual in Balzar forest; and the tapping had been so light a stray rodent might easily have done it. A single lamp in the room cast uncertain light upon Simms' bronzed countenance ---- enough to reveal that the sound had caused him considerable alarm. The tapping was repeated with enough force to dispel any doubt as to its reality. Casting the paper aside, Simms rose slowly, lifted the latch on the heavy portal, and peered cautiously out into the night. At first he did not see the tall figure standing beside the door, but gradually his eyes became accustomed to the dark and focused on the caller. "What do you want?" Simms demanded, throwing the door open so he could have a better view of the stranger. "A night's lodging, sire." His voice was smooth and cultured. "And I'll see that you are well paid." "But I have an invalid----" "Come, come, my man; will two pounds satisfy you?" "That is enough," said Simms decisively, "but your bed will be a hard one, as I have only two cots." "What's the matter with the second?" the stranger inquired, stepping inside the shabby hut. "My brother, Stanley, is very ill in the next room." The tall man nodded and removed his cloak and hat, revealing expensive clothes and riding habit. He told Simms that he had lost his way along the narrow road, and seeing the cottage light, had approached it in quest of shelter. He said his horse had thrown him and run away. Turning about in the small room, his eyes fell on the door which opened upon the adjoining chamber. From a crack at the bottom of the rectangle a feeble light gleamed. Noting the direction of his gaze, Simms said: "My brother must have a lamp all night---he is afraid of the dark, even with the fever. he talks about spiders..." "I see," the tall one replied, seating himself in a wicker chair. For a long while he was motionless, staring at the bare, shadowy walls as if deep in thought. Simms had taken up his paper again when the man interrupted. "Something has been bothering me" he said slowly. "What you said about your brother reminded me of it. In the last village I heard wild stories about an accursed house somewhere along this road---know anything about it?" "Nothing," Simms replied. "We have been here only a short time; there may be one for all I know." "Then you haven't heard the story?" "No," Simms answered curtly, nettled at the man's persistence. "I don't bother with legends or superstitions." "Maybe it will interest you nevertheless," the stranger said, turning up the lamp. "The way I heard it was something like this: "It seems that in a deep forest hereabouts---I think they call
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4 THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR by Duane W Rimel Simms was interrupted reading the paper by a rap on the door. He hesitated a moment, uncertain as to whether the noise had been real or imaginary, for midnight visitors were unusual in Balzar forest; and the tapping had been so light a stray rodent might easily have done it. A single lamp in the room cast uncertain light upon Simms' bronzed countenance ---- enough to reveal that the sound had caused him considerable alarm. The tapping was repeated with enough force to dispel any doubt as to its reality. Casting the paper aside, Simms rose slowly, lifted the latch on the heavy portal, and peered cautiously out into the night. At first he did not see the tall figure standing beside the door, but gradually his eyes became accustomed to the dark and focused on the caller. "What do you want?" Simms demanded, throwing the door open so he could have a better view of the stranger. "A night's lodging, sire." His voice was smooth and cultured. "And I'll see that you are well paid." "But I have an invalid----" "Come, come, my man; will two pounds satisfy you?" "That is enough," said Simms decisively, "but your bed will be a hard one, as I have only two cots." "What's the matter with the second?" the stranger inquired, stepping inside the shabby hut. "My brother, Stanley, is very ill in the next room." The tall man nodded and removed his cloak and hat, revealing expensive clothes and riding habit. He told Simms that he had lost his way along the narrow road, and seeing the cottage light, had approached it in quest of shelter. He said his horse had thrown him and run away. Turning about in the small room, his eyes fell on the door which opened upon the adjoining chamber. From a crack at the bottom of the rectangle a feeble light gleamed. Noting the direction of his gaze, Simms said: "My brother must have a lamp all night---he is afraid of the dark, even with the fever. he talks about spiders..." "I see," the tall one replied, seating himself in a wicker chair. For a long while he was motionless, staring at the bare, shadowy walls as if deep in thought. Simms had taken up his paper again when the man interrupted. "Something has been bothering me" he said slowly. "What you said about your brother reminded me of it. In the last village I heard wild stories about an accursed house somewhere along this road---know anything about it?" "Nothing," Simms replied. "We have been here only a short time; there may be one for all I know." "Then you haven't heard the story?" "No," Simms answered curtly, nettled at the man's persistence. "I don't bother with legends or superstitions." "Maybe it will interest you nevertheless," the stranger said, turning up the lamp. "The way I heard it was something like this: "It seems that in a deep forest hereabouts---I think they call
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