Lovecraft, H P - The Evil Clergyman

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The Evil Clergyman
The Evil Clergyman
by H. P. Lovecraft
Written 1937
Published April 1939 in Weird Tales, Vol. 33, No. 4, p. 135-37
I was shown into the attic chamber by a grave, intelligent-looking man with quiet clothes
and an iron-gray beard, who spoke to me in this fashion:
"Yes, he lived here - but I don’t advise your doing anything. Your curiosity makes you
irresponsible. We never come here at night, and it’s only because of his will that we keep
it this way. You know what he did. That abominable society took charge at last, and we
don’t know where he is buried. There was no way the law or anything else could reach
the society.
"I hope you won’t stay till after dark. And I beg of you to let that thing on the table - the
thing that looks like a match-box - alone. We don’t know what it is, but we suspect it has
something to do with what he did. We even avoid looking at it very steadily."
After a time the man left me alone in the attic room. It was very dingy and dusty, and
only primitively furnished, but it had a neatness which showed it was not a slum-
denizen’s quarters. There were shelves full of theological and classical books, and
another bookcase containing treatises on magic - Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus,
Trithemius, Hermes Trismegistus, Borellus, and others in a strange alphabet whose titles
I could not decipher. The furniture was very plain. There was a door, but it led only into a
closet. The only egress was the aperture in the floor up to which the crude, steep staircase
led. The windows were of bull’s-eye pattern, and the black oak beams bespoke
unbelievable antiquity. Plainly, this house was of the Old World. I seemed to know where
I was, but cannot recall what I then knew. Certainly the town was not London. My
impression is of a small seaport.
The small object on the table fascinated me intensely. I seemed to know what to do with
it, for I drew a pocket electric light - or what looked like one - out of my pocket and
nervously tested its flashes. The light was not white but violet, and seemed less like true
light than like some radioactive bombardment. I recall that I did not regard it as a
common flashlight - indeed, I had a common flashlight in another pocket.
It was getting dark, and the ancient roofs and chimney-pots outside looked very queer
through the bull’s-eye window-panes. Finally I summoned up courage and propped the
small object up on the table against a book - then turned the rays of the peculiar violet
light upon it. The light seemed now to be more like a rain of hail or small violet particles
than like a continuous beam. As the particles struck the glassy surface at the center of the
strange device, they seemed to produce a crackling noise like the sputtering of a vacuum
tube through which sparks are passed. The dark glassy surface displayed a pinkish glow,
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分类:外语学习 价格:5.9玖币 属性:4 页 大小:99.05KB 格式:PDF 时间:2024-11-24

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