"I didn't dare move. I remained absolutely calm as I always do at such moments, resisting the inevitable delirium, concentrating upon the noise, the press of the crowd, even the thin scream of the music. And very carefully I memorized what I saw. His clothes were dirty and disheveled. The right side of his face was bruised or at least discolored.
"Finally I came round to the foot of the steps and started up. Only then did the phantom wake from its seeming languor. Once again, he shook his head and gestured for me to go away.
" 'Stuart!' I whispered. 'Talk to me, man, if you can!'
"I continued upwards, my eyes fixed upon him, as his expression grew ever more fearful; and I saw that he was covered with dust; that his body, even as he stared back at me, showed the first signs of decay. Nay, I could smell it! Then the inevitable happened; the image begin to fade. 'Stuart!' I appealed to him desperately. But the figure darkened, and through it, quite unconscious of it, stepped a flesh and blood woman of extraordinary beauty, who hurried down the stairs towards me and then past me, in a flurry of peach-colored silk and clattering jewelry, carrying with her a cloud of sweet perfume.
"Stuart was gone. The smell of human decay was gone. The woman murmured an apology as she brushed by me. Seems she was shouting to any number of people in the lower hall.
"Then she turned, and as I stood staring upwards still, quite oblivious to her, and gazing at nothing but empty shadows, I felt her hand grip my arm.
" 'Oh, but the party's down here,' she said. And gave me a little tug.
" 'I'm looking for the lavatory,' I said, for at that moment, I could think of nothing else.
" 'Down here, ducky,' she said. 'It's off the library. I'll show you, right around in back of the stairs.'
"Clumsily, I followed her down around the staircase and into a very large but dimly lighted northside room. The library, yes, most certainly, with bookshelves to the ceiling and dark leather furnishings, and only one lamp lighted, in a far corner, beside a blood red drape. A great dark mirror hung over the marble fireplace, reflecting the one lamp as if it were a sanctuary light.
" 'There you go,' she said, pointing to a closed door, and quickly made her exit. I was suddenly conscious of a man and woman huddled together on the leather couch who rose and hurried away. It seemed the party with its continued merriment bypassed this room. Everything here was dust and silence. One could smell moldering leather and paper. And I was immensely relieved to be alone.
"I sank down into the wing chair facing the fireplace, with my back to the crowd passing in the hallway, glancing up at the reflection of it in the mirror, and feeling quite safe from it for the moment, and praying that no other loving couple would seek this shadowy retreat.
"I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face. I was sweating miserably, and I struggled to remember every detail of what I'd seen.
"Now, you know we all have our theories regarding apparitions--as to why they appear in this or that guise, or why they do what they do. And my theories probably don't agree with those of anyone else. But I was certain of one thing as I sat there. Stuart had chosen to show himself to me in decayed and disheveled form for one very good reason--his remains were in this house! Yet he was imploring me to leave here! He was warning me to get out.
"Was this warning intended for the entire Talamasca? Or merely for Arthur Langtry? I sat brooding, feeling my pulse return to normal, and feeling as I always do in the aftermath of such experiences, a rush of adrenaline, a zeal to discover all that lies behind the faint shimmer of the supernatural which I had only just glimpsed.
"I was also enraged, deeply and bitterly, at whoever or whatever had brought Stuart's life to a close.
"How to proceed, that was the vital question. Of course I should speak to Stella. But how much of the house might I explore before I made myself known to her? And what of Stuart's warning? Precisely what was the danger for which I must be prepared?
"I was considering all this, aware of no perceptible change in the racket from the hallway behind me, when there suddenly came over me the realization that something in my immediate environment had undergone a radical and significant change. Slowly I looked up. There was someone reflected in the mirror--a lone figure, it seemed. With a start I looked over my shoulder. No one there. And then back again to the dim and shadowy glass.
"A man was gazing out from the immaterial realm beyond it, and as I studied him, the adrenaline pumping and my senses sharpening, his image grew brighter and clearer, until he was vividly and undeniably a young man of pale complexion and dark brown eyes, staring angrily and malevolently and unmistakably down at me.
"At last the image reached its fullest potency. And so vital was it, that it seemed a mortal man had secreted himself in a chamber behind the mirror, and having removed the glass was peering at me from the empty frame.
"Never in all my years with the Talamasca had I seen an apparition so exquisitely realized. The man appeared to be perhaps thirty years of age; his skin was deliberately flawless, yet carefully colored, with a blush to the cheeks and a faint paling beneath the eyes. His clothing was extremely old-fashioned, with an upturned white collar and a rich silk tie. As for the hair, it was wavy and ever so slightly unkempt, as if he had only just run his fingers through it. The mouth appeared soft, youthful, and slightly ruddy. I could see the fine lines in the lips. Indeed I could see the barest shadow of a shaven beard on his chin.
"But the effect was horrible, for it was not a human being, or a painting, or a reflection. But something infinitely more brilliant than any of these; and yet silently alive.
"The brown eyes were full of hatred, and as I looked at the creature, his mouth quivered ever so slightly with anger, and finally rage.
"Quite slowly and deliberately, I raised my handkerchief to my lips. 'Did you kill my friend, spirit?' I whispered. Seldom have I felt so enlivened, so heated for adversity. 'Well, spirit?' I whispered again.
"I saw it weakening. I saw it lose its solidity, indeed, its very animation. The face, so beautifully modeled and expressive of negative emotion, was slowly going blank.
" 'I'm not so easily dispatched, spirit,' I said under my breath. 'Now we have two accounts to settle, do we not! Petyr van Abel and Stuart Townsend, are we agreed on that much?'
"The illusion seemed powerless to answer me. And quite suddenly the entire mirror shivered, becoming merely a dark glass again as the door to the hallway was slammed shut.
"Footsteps sounded on the bare floor beyond the edge of the Chinese carpet. The mirror was definitely empty, reflecting no more than woodwork and books.
"I turned and saw a young woman advancing across the carpet, her eyes fixed on the mirror, her whole demeanor one of anger, confusion, distress. It was Stella. She stood before the mirror, with her back to me, gazing into it, and then turned round.
" 'Well, you can describe that to your friends in London, can't you?' she said. She seemed on the edge of hysteria. 'You can tell them you saw that!'
"I realized she was shaking all over. The flimsy gold dress with its layers of fringe was shivering. And anxiously she clutched the monstrous emerald at her throat.
"I struggled to rise, but she told me to sit down, and immediately took a place on the couch to my left, her hand laid firmly on my knee. She leant over very close to me, so close that I could see the mascara on her long lashes, and the powder on her cheeks. She was like a great kewpie doll looking at me, a cinema goddess, naked in her gossamer silk.
" 'Listen, can you take me with you?' she said. 'Back to England, to these people, this Talamasca? Stuart said you could!'
" 'You tell me what happened to Stuart and I'll take you anywhere you like.'
" 'I don't know!' she said, and at once her eyes watered. 'Listen, I have to get out of here. I didn't hurt him. I don't do things like that to people. I never have! God, don't you believe me? Can't you tell that I'm speaking the truth?'
" 'All right. What do you want me to do?'
" 'Just h
elp me! Take me with you, back to England. Look, I've got my passport, I've got plenty of money--' At this point she broke off, and pulled open a drawer in the couchside table and took out of it a veritable sheaf of twenty-dollar bills. 'Here, you can buy the tickets. I can meet you. Tonight.'
"Before I could answer, she looked up with a start. The door had opened, and in came the young boy with whom she'd been dancing earlier, quite flushed, and full of concern.
" 'Stella, I've been looking for you ... '
" 'Oh, sweetheart, I'm coming,' she said, rising at once, and glancing at me meaningfully over her shoulder. 'Now, go back out and get me a drink, will you, sweetheart?' She straightened his tie as she spoke to him, and then turned him around with quick little gestures and actually shoved him towards the door.