Read Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) Online
Authors: Travelers In Time
One
other
detail:
On
the
left
side
of
the
skirt
of
the
black
dress was,
as
I
thought
at
first,
a
shapeless
bunch
of
white
ribbon.
Then, as
I
looked
more
intently
or
as
the
vision
defined
itself
more
clearly, I
perceived
what
it
was.
It
was
the
hand
of
a
man,
clenched
and knotted
in
agony,
which
held
on
with
a
convulsive
grasp
to
the fold
of
the
dress.
The
rest
of
the
crouching
figure
was
a
mere
vague outline,
but
that
strenuous
hand
shone
clear
on
the
dark
background, with
a
sinister
suggestion
of
tragedy
in
its
frantic
clutch.
The
man is
frightened—horribly
frightened.
That
I
can
clearly
discern.
What has
terrified
him
so?
Why
does
he
grip
the
woman's
dress?
The answer
lies
amongst
those
moving
figures
in
the
background.
They have
brought
danger
both
to
him
and
to
her.
The
interest
of
the thing
fascinated
me.
I
thought
no
more
of
its
relation
to
my
own nerves.
I
stared
and
stared
as
if
in
a
theatre.
But
I
could
get
no further.
Tire
mist
thinned.
There
were
tumultuous
movements
in which
all
the
figures
were
vaguely
concerned.
Then
the
mirror
was clear
once
more.
The
doctor
says
I
must
drop
work
for
a
day,
and
I
can
afford
to do
so,
for
I
have
made
good
progress
lately.
It
is
quite
evident
that the
visions
depend
entirely
upon
my
own
nervous
state,
for
I
sat
in front
of
the
mirror
for
an
hour
to-night,
with
no
result
whatever. My
soothing
day
has
chased
them
away.
I
wonder
whether
I
shall ever
penetrate
what
they
all
mean?
I
examined
the
mirror
this evening
under
a
good
light,
and
besides
the
mysterious
inscription "Sane.
X.
Pal.,"
I
was
able
to
discern
some
signs
of
heraldic
marks, very
faintly
visible
upon
the
silver.
They
must
be
very
ancient,
as
they are
almost
obliterated.
So
far
as
I
could
make
out,
they
were
three spear-heads,
two
above
and
one
below.
I
will
show
them
to
the
doctor when
he
calls
to-morrow.
January
14.
Feel
perfectly
well
again,
and
I
intend
that
nothing
else
shall
stop me
until
my
task
is
finished.
The
doctor
was
shown
the
marks
on the
mirror
and
agreed
that
they
were
armorial
bearings.
He
is
deeply interested
in
all
that
I
have
told
him,
and
cross-questioned
me
closely on
the
details.
It
amuses
me
to
notice
how
he
is
torn
in
two
by conflicting
desires—the
one
that
his
patient
should
lose
his
symptoms, the
other
that
the
medium—for
so
he
regards
me—should
solve this
mystery
of
the
past.
He
advised
continued
rest,
but
did
not oppose
me
too
violently
when
I
declared
that
such
a
thing
was
out of
the
question
until
the
ten
remaining
ledgers
have
been
checked.