A Tale of Stark, Unreasoning Terror
By ROBERT E. HOWARD
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Weird Tales February 1930.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Old Adam Farrel lay dead in the house wherein he had lived alone forthe last twenty years. A silent, churlish recluse, in his life he hadknown no friends, and only two men had watched his passing.
Dr. Stein rose and glanced out the window into the gathering dusk.
"You think you can spend the night here, then?" he asked his companion.
This man, Falred by name, assented.
"Yes, certainly. I guess it's up to me."
"Rather a useless and primitive custom, sitting up with the dead,"commented the doctor, preparing to depart, "but I suppose in commondecency we will have to bow to precedence. Maybe I can find some onewho'll come over here and help you with your vigil."
Falred shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt it. Farrel wasn't liked—wasn'tknown by many people. I scarcely knew him myself, but I don't mindsitting up with the corpse."
Dr. Stein was removing his rubber gloves, and Falred watched theprocess with an interest that almost amounted to fascination. Aslight, involuntary shudder shook him at the memory of touching thesegloves—slick, cold, clammy things, like the touch of death.
"You may get lonely tonight, if I don't find anyone," the doctorremarked as he opened the door. "Not superstitious, are you?"
Falred laughed. "Scarcely. To tell the truth, from what I hear ofFarrel's disposition, I'd rather be watching his corpse than have beenhis guest in life."
The door closed and Falred took up his vigil. He seated himself in theonly chair the room boasted, glanced casually at the formless, sheetedbulk on the bed opposite him, and began to read by the light of the dimlamp which stood on the rough table.
Outside the darkness gathered swiftly, and finally Falred laid downhis magazine to rest his eyes. He looked again at the shape which had,in life, been the form of Adam Farrel, wondering what quirk in thehuman nature made the sight of a corpse not only so unpleasant, butsuch an object of fear to many. Unthinking ignorance, seeing in deadthings a reminder of death to come, he decided lazily, and began idlycontemplating as to what life had held for this grim and crabbed oldman, who had neither relatives nor friends, and who had seldom left thehouse wherein he had died. The usual tales of miser-hoarded wealth hadaccumulated, but Falred felt so little interest in the whole matterthat it was not even necessary for him to overcome any temptation topry about the house for possible hidden treasure.
He returned to his reading with a shrug. The task was more boresomethan he had thought for. After a while he was aware that every time helooked up from his magazine and his eyes fell upon the bed with itsgrim occupant, he started involuntarily as if he had, for an instant,forgotten the presence of the dead man and was unpleasantly remindedof the fact. The start was slight and instinctive, but he felt almostangered at himself. He realized, for the first time, the utter anddeadening silence which enwrapped the house—a silence apparentlyshared b