The house on the Borderland

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The House on the Borderland
By William Hope Hodgson
SEH 3/17/2000
From the Manuscript, discovered in 1877 by Messrs. Tonnison and
Berreggnog, in the Ruins that lie to the South of the Village of Kraighten,
in the West of Ireland. Set out here, with Notes by WILLIAM HOPE
HODGSON
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
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Chapter 27
AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION TO THE MANUSCRIPT
MANY are the hours in which I have pondered upon the story that is set
forth in the following pages. I trust that my instincts are not awry when
they prompt me to leave the account, in simplicity, as it was handed to me.
And the MS. itself--You must picture me, when first it was given into my
care, turning it over, curiously, and making a swift, jerky examination. A
small book it is; but thick, and all, save the last few pages, filled with a
quaint but legible hand-writing, and writ very close. I have the queer,
faint, pit-water smell of it in my nostrils now as I write, and my fingers
have subconscious memories of the soft, "cloggy" feel of the long-damp
pages.
I read, and, in reading, lifted the Curtains of the Impossible, that blind the
mind, and looked out into the unknown. Amid stiff, abrupt sentences I
wandered; and, presently, I had no fault to charge against their abrupt
tellings; for, better far than my own ambitious phrasing, is this mutilated
story capable of bringing home all that the old Recluse, of the vanished
house, had striven to tell.
Of the simple, stiffly given account of weird and extraordinary matters, I
will say little. It lies before you. The inner story must be uncovered,
personally, by each reader, according to ability and desire. And even
should any fail to see, as now I see, the shadowed picture and conception of
that, to which one may well give the accepted titles of Heaven and Hell; yet
can I promise certain thrills, merely taking the story as a story.
WILLIAM HOPE HODGSON. December 17, 1907
TO MY FATHER
(Whose feet tread the lost aeons)
"Open the door,
And listen!
Only the wind's muffled roar,
And the glisten
Of tears round the moon.
And, in fancy, the tread
Of vanishing shoon--
Out in the night with the Dead.
"Hush! and hark
To the sorrowful cry
Of the wind in the dark.
Hush and hark, without murmur or sigh,
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To shoon that tread the lost aeons:
To the sound that bids you to die.
Hush and hark! Hush and Hark!"
Shoon of the Dead
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The House On The Borderland
By William Hope Hodgson
Chapter I
THE FINDING OF THE MANUSCRIPT
RIGHT AWAY in the west of Ireland lies a tiny hamlet called Kraighten.
It is situated, alone, at the base of a low hill. Far around there spreads a
waste of bleak and totally inhospitable country; where, here and there at
great intervals, one may come upon the ruins of some long desolate
cottage--unthatched and stark. The whole land is bare and unpeopled, the
very earth scarcely covering the rock that lies beneath it, and with which
the country abounds, in places rising out of the soil in wave-shaped ridges.
Yet, in spite of its desolation, my friend Tonnison and I had elected to
spend our vacation there. He had stumbled on the place, by mere chance,
the year previously, during the course of a long walking tour, and
discovered the possibilities for the angler, in a small and unnamed river
that runs past the outskirts of the little village.
I have said that the river is without name; I may add that no map that I
have hitherto consulted has shown either village or stream. They seem to
have entirely escaped observation: indeed, they might never exist for all
that the average guide tells one. Possibly, this can be partly accounted for
by the fact that the nearest railway-station (Ardrahan) is some forty miles
distant.
It was early one warm evening when my friend and I arrived in Kraighten.
We had reached Ardrahan the previous night, sleeping there in rooms
hired at the village post-office, and leaving in good time on the following
morning, clinging insecurely to one of the typical jaunting cars.
It had taken us all day to accomplish our journey over some of the
roughest tracks imaginable, with the result that we were thoroughly tired
and somewhat bad tempered. However, the tent had to be erected, and our
goods stowed away, before we could think of food or rest. And so we set to
work, with the aid of our driver, and soon had the tent up, upon a small
patch of ground just outside the little village, and quite near to the river.
Then, having stored all our belongings, we dismissed the driver, as he had
to make his way back as speedily as possible, and told him to come across
to us at the end of a fortnight. We had brought sufficient provisions to last
us for that space of time, and water we could get from the stream. Fuel we
did not need, as we had included a small oil-stove among our outfit, and
the weather was fine and warm.
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It was Tonnison's idea to camp out instead of getting lodgings in one of the
cottages. As he put it, there was no joke in sleeping in a room with a
numerous family of healthy Irish in one corner, and the pig-sty in the
other, while over-head a ragged colony of roosting fowls distributed their
blessings impartially, and the whole place so full of peat smoke that it
made a fellow sneeze his head off just to put it inside the doorway.
Tonnison had got the stove lit now, and was busy cutting slices of bacon
into the frying-pan; so I took the kettle and walked down to the river for
water. On the way, I had to pass close to a little group of the village people,
who eyed me curiously, but not in any unfriendly manner, though none of
them ventured a word.
As I returned with my kettle filled, I went up to them and, after a friendly
nod, to which they replied in like manner, I asked them casually about the
fishing; but, instead of answering, they just shook their heads silently, and
stared at me. I repeated the question, addressing more particularly a great,
gaunt fellow at my elbow; yet again I received no answer. Then the man
turned to a comrade and said something rapidly in a language that I did
not understand; and, at once, the whole crowd of them fell to jabbering in
what, after a few moments, I guessed to be pure Irish. At the same time
they cast many glances in my direction. For a minute, perhaps, they spoke
among themselves thus; then the man I had addressed, faced round at me,
and said something. By the expression of his face I guessed that he, in turn,
was questioning me; but now I had to shake my head, and indicate that I
did not comprehend what it was they wanted to know; and so we stood
looking at one another, until I heard Tonnison calling to me to hurry up
with the kettle. Then, with a smile and a nod, I left them, and all in the
little crowd smiled and nodded in return, though their faces still betrayed
their puzzlement.
It was evident, I reflected as I went towards the tent, that the inhabitants
of these few huts in the wilderness did not know a word of English; and
when I told Tonnison, he remarked that he was aware of the fact, and,
more, that it was not at all uncommon in that part of the country, where
the people often lived and died in their isolated hamlets without ever
coming in contact with the outside world.
"I wish we had got the driver to interpret for us before he left," I
remarked, as we sat down to our meal. "It seems so strange for the people
of this place not even to know what we've come for."
Tonnison grunted an assent, and thereafter was silent for awhile.
Later, having satisfied our appetites somewhat, we began to talk, laying
our plans for the morrow; then, after a smoke, we closed the flap of the
tent, and prepared to turn in.
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"I suppose there's no chance of those fellows outside taking anything?" I
asked, as we rolled ourselves in our blankets.
Tonnison said that he did not think so, at least while we were about; and,
as he went on to explain, we could lock up everything, except the tent, in
the big chest that we had brought to hold our provisions. I agreed to this,
and soon we were both asleep.
Next morning, early, we rose and went for a swim in the river; after which
we dressed, and had breakfast. Then we roused out our fishing tackle, and
overhauled it, by which time, our breakfasts having settled somewhat, we
made all secure within the tent, and strode off in the direction my friend
had explored on his previous visit.
During the day we fished happily, working steadily up-stream, and by
evening we had one of the prettiest creels of fish that I had seen for a long
while. Returning to the village, we made a good feed off our day's spoil,
after which, having selected a few of the finer fish for our breakfast, we
presented the remainder to the group of villagers who had assembled at a
respectful distance to watch our doings. They seemed wonderfully grateful,
and heaped mountains of, what I presumed to be, Irish blessings upon our
heads.
Thus we spent several days, having splendid sport, and first-rate appetites
to do justice upon our prey. We were pleased to find how friendly the
villagers were inclined to be, and that there was no evidence of their
having ventured to meddle with our belongings during our absences.
It was on a Tuesday that we arrived in Kraighten, and it would be on the
Sunday following that we made a great discovery. Hitherto we had always
gone up-stream; on that day, however, we laid aside our rods, and, taking
some provisions, set off for a long ramble in the opposite direction. The
day was warm, and we trudged along leisurely enough, stopping about
midday to eat our lunch upon a great flat rock near the river bank.
Afterwards, we sat and smoked awhile, resuming our walk only when we
were tired of inaction.
For, perhaps, another hour we wandered onwards, chatting quietly and
comfortably on this and that matter, and on several occasions stopping
while my companion--who is something of an artist--made rough sketches
of striking bits of the wild scenery.
And then, without any warning whatsoever, the river we had followed so
confidently, came to an abrupt end--vanishing into the earth.
"Good Lord!" I said, "who ever would have thought of this?"
And I stared in amazement; then I turned to Tonnison. He was looking,
with a blank expression upon his face, at the place where the river
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disappeared.
In a moment he spoke.
"Let us go on a bit; it may reappear again--anyhow, it is worth
investigating."
I agreed, and we went forward once more, though rather aimlessly; for we
were not at all certain in which direction to prosecute our search. For
perhaps a mile we moved onwards; then Tonnison, who had been gazing
about curiously, stopped and shaded his eyes.
"See!" he said, after a moment, "isn't that mist or something, over there to
the right--away in a line with that great piece of rock?" And he indicated
with his hand.
I stared, and, after a minute, seemed to see something, but could not be
certain, and said so.
"Anyway," my friend replied, "we'll just go across and have a glance."
And he started off in the direction he had suggested, I following. Presently,
we came among bushes, and, after a time, out upon the top of a high,
boulder-strewn bank, from which we looked down into a wilderness of
bushes and trees.
"Seems as though we had come upon an oasis in this desert of stone,"
muttered Tonnison, as he gazed interestedly. Then he was silent, his eyes
fixed; and I looked also; for up from somewhere about the centre of the
wooded lowland there rose high into the quiet air a great column of
haze-like spray, upon which the sun shone, causing innumerable rainbows.
"How beautiful!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," answered Tonnison, thoughtfully. "There must be a waterfall, or
something, over there. Perhaps it's our river come to light again. Let's go
and see."
Down the sloping bank we made our way, and entered among the trees and
shrubberies. The bushes were matted, and the trees overhung us, so that
the place was disagreeably gloomy; though not dark enough to hide from
me the fact that many of the trees were fruit-trees, and that, here and
there, one could trace indistinctly, signs of a long departed cultivation.
Thus it came to me, that we were making our way through the riot of a
great and ancient garden. I said as much to Tonnison, and he agreed that
there certainly seemed reasonable grounds for my belief.
What a wild place it was, so dismal and sombre! Somehow, as we went
forward, a sense of the silent loneliness and desertion of the old garden
grew upon me, and I felt shivery. One could imagine things lurking among
the tangled bushes; while, in the very air of the place, there seemed
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something uncanny. I think Tonnison was conscious of this also, though he
said nothing.
Suddenly, we came to a halt. Through the trees there had grown upon our
ears a distant sound. Tonnison bent forward, listening. I could hear it
more plainly now; it was continuous and harsh--a sort of droning roar,
seeming to come from far away. I experienced a queer, indescribable, little
feeling of nervousness. What sort of place was it into which we had got? I
looked at my companion, to see what he thought of the matter; and noted
that there was only puzzlement in his face; and then, as I watched his
features, an expression of comprehension crept over them, and he nodded
his head.
"'That's a waterfall," he exclaimed, with conviction. "I know the sound
now." And he began to push vigorously through the bushes, in the
direction of the noise.
As we went forward, the sound became plainer continually, showing that
we were heading straight towards it. Steadily, the roaring grew louder and
nearer, until it appeared, as I remarked to Tonnison, almost to come from
under our feet--and still we were surrounded by the trees and shrubs.
"Take care!" Tonnison called to me. "Look where you're going." And
then, suddenly, we came out from among the trees, on to a great open
space, where, not six paces in front of us, yawned the mouth of a
tremendous chasm, from the depths of which, the noise appeared to rise,
along with the continuous, mist-like spray that we had witnessed from the
top of the distant bank.
For quite a minute we stood in silence, staring in bewilderment at the
sight; then my friend went forward cautiously to the edge of the abyss. I
followed, and, together, we looked down through a boil of spray at a
monster cataract of frothing water that burst, spouting, from the side of
the chasm, nearly a hundred feet below.
"Good Lord!" said Tonnison.
I was silent, and rather awed. The sight was so unexpectedly grand and
eerie; though this latter quality came more upon me later.
Presently, I looked up and across to the further side of the chasm. There, I
saw something towering up among the spray: it looked like a fragment of a
great ruin, and I touched Tonnison on the shoulder. He glanced round,
with a start, and I pointed towards the thing. His gaze followed my finger,
and his eyes lighted up with a sudden flash of excitement, as the object
came within his field of view.
"Come along," he shouted above the uproar. "We'll have a look at it.
There's something queer about this place; I feel it in my bones." And he
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started off, round the edge of the crater-like abyss. As we neared this new
thing, I saw that I had not been mistaken in my first impression. It was
undoubtedly a portion of some ruined building; yet now I made out that it
was not built upon the edge of the chasm itself, as I had at first supposed;
but perched almost at the extreme end of a huge spur of rock that jutted
out some fifty or sixty feet over the abyss. In fact, the jagged mass of ruin
was literally suspended in mid-air.
Arriving opposite it, we walked out on to the projecting arm of rock, and I
must confess to having felt an intolerable sense of terror, as I looked down
from that dizzy perch into the unknown depths below us--into the deeps
from which there rose ever the thunder of the falling water, and the
shroud of rising spray.
Reaching the ruin, we clambered round it cautiously, and, on the further
side, came upon a mass of fallen stones and rubble. The ruin itself seemed
to me, as I proceeded now to examine it minutely, to be a portion of the
outer wall of some prodigious structure, it was so thick and substantially
built; yet what it was doing in such a position, I could by no means
conjecture. Where was the rest of the house, or castle, or whatever there
had been?
I went back to the outer side of the wall, and thence to the edge of the
chasm, leaving Tonnison rooting systematically among the heap of stones
and rubbish on the outer side. Then I commenced to examine the surface
of the ground, near the edge of the abyss, to see whether there were not left
other remnants of the building to which the fragment of ruin evidently
belonged. But, though I scrutinised the earth with the greatest care, I could
see no signs of anything to show that there had ever been a building
erected on the spot, and I grew more puzzled than ever.
Then, I heard a cry from Tonnison; he was shouting my name, excitedly,
and, without delay, I hurried along the rocky promontory to the ruin. I
wondered whether he had hurt himself, and then the thought came, that
perhaps he had found something.
I reached the crumbled wall, and climbed round. There, I found Tonnison
standing within a small excavation that he had made among the débris: he
was brushing the dirt from something that looked like a book, much
crumpled and dilapidated; and opening his mouth, every second or two, to
bellow my name. As soon as he saw that I had come, he handed his prize to
me, telling me to put it into my satchel so as to protect it from the damp,
while he continued his explorations. This I did, first, however, running the
pages through my fingers, and noting that they were closely filled with
neat, old-fashioned writing which was quite legible, save in one portion,
where many of the pages were almost destroyed, being muddied and
crumpled, as though the book had been doubled back at that part. This, I
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found out from Tonnison, was actually as he had discovered it, and the
damage was due, probably, to the fall of masonry upon the opened part.
Curiously enough, the book was fairly dry, which I attributed to its having
been so securely buried among the ruins.
Having put the volume away safely, I turned-to and gave Tonnison a hand
with his self-imposed task of excavating; yet, though we put in over an
hour's hard work, turning over the whole of the upheaped stones and
rubbish, we came upon nothing more than some fragments of broken
wood, that might have been parts of a desk or table; and so we gave up
searching, and went back along the rock, once more to the safety of the
land.
The next thing we did was to make a complete tour of the tremendous
chasm, which we were able to observe was in the form of an almost perfect
circle, save for where the ruin-crowned spur of rock jutted out, spoiling its
symmetry.
The abyss was, as Tonnison put it, like nothing so much as a gigantic well
or pit going sheer down into the bowels of the earth.
For some time longer, we continued to stare about us, and then, noticing
that there was a clear space away to the north of the chasm, we bent our
steps in that direction.
Here, distant from the mouth of the mighty pit by some hundreds of yards,
we came upon a great lake of silent water--silent, that is, save in one place
where there was a continuous bubbling and gurgling.
Now, being away from the noise of the spouting cataract, we were able to
hear one another speak, without having to shout at the tops of our voices,
and I asked Tonnison what he thought of the place--I told him that I didn't
like it, and that the sooner we were out of it the better I should be pleased.
He nodded in reply, and glanced at the woods behind, furtively. I asked
him if he had seen or heard anything. He made no answer; but stood silent,
as though listening, and I kept quiet also.
Suddenly, he spoke.
"Hark!" he said, sharply. I looked at him, and then away among the trees
and bushes, holding my breath involuntarily. A minute came and went in
strained silence; yet I could hear nothing, and I turned to Tonnison to say
as much; and then, even as I opened my lips to speak, there came a strange
wailing noise out of the wood on our left. . . . It appeared to float through
the trees, and there was a rustle of stirring leaves, and then silence.
All at once, Tonnison spoke, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Let us get
out of here," he said, and began to move slowly towards where the
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摘要：

TheHouseontheBorderlandByWilliamHopeHodgsonSEH3/17/2000FromtheManuscript,discoveredin1877byMessrs.TonnisonandBerreggnog,intheRuinsthatlietotheSouthoftheVillageofKraighten,intheWestofIreland.Setouthere,withNotesbyWILLIAMHOPEHODGSONContentsIntroductionChapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6C...

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