"The Burnt Martyr."
The doll–maker murmured in a voice like honey garnered from flowers in helclass="underline"
"This doll has not behaved well. She has been disobedient. I punish my dolls when they do not behave well. But I see that you are distressed. Well, she has been punished enough—for the moment."
The long white hands crept into the cabinet, drew out the nails from hands and feet. She set the doll upright, leaning against the back. She turned to me.
"You would like her for your granddaughter, perhaps? Alas! She is not for sale. She has lessons to learn before she goes again from me."
Her voice changed, lost its diabolic sweetness, became charged with menace.
"Now listen to me—Dr. Lowell! What—you did not think I knew you? I knew you from the first. You too need a lesson!" Her eyes blazed upon me. "You shall have your lesson—you fool! You who pretend to heal the mind—and know nothing, nothing I say, of what the mind is. You, who conceive the mind as but a part of a machine of flesh and blood, nerve and bone and know nothing of what it houses. You—who admit existence of nothing unless you can measure it in your test tubes or see it under your microscope. You—who define life as a chemical ferment, and consciousness as the product of cells. You fool! Yet you and this savage, Ricori, have dared to try to hamper me, to interfere with me, to hem me round with spies! Dared to threaten me— Me—possessor of the ancient wisdom beside which your science is as crackling of thorns under an empty pot! You fools! I know who are the dwellers in the mind—and the powers that manifest themselves through it—and those who dwell beyond it! They come at my call. And you think to pit your paltry knowledge against mine? You fool! Have you understood me? Speak!"
She pointed a finger at me. I felt my throat relax, knew I could speak once more.
"You hell bag!" I croaked. "You damned murderess! You'll go to the electric chair before I'm through with you!"
She came toward me, laughing.
"You would give me to the law? But who would believe you? None! The ignorance that your science has fostered is my shield. The darkness of your unbelief is my impregnable fortress. Go play with your machines, fool! Play with your machines! But meddle with me no more!"
Her voice grew quiet, deadly.
"Now this I tell you. If you would live, if you would have live those who are dear to you—take your spies away. Ricori you cannot save. He is mine. But you—think never of me again. Pry no more into my affairs. I do not fear your spies—but they offend me. Take them away. At once. If by nightfall they are still on watch—"
She caught me by the shoulder with a grip that bruised. She pushed me toward the door.
"Go!"
I fought to muster my will, to raise my arms. Could I have done so I would have struck her down as I would a ravening beast. I could not move them. Like an automaton I walked across the room to the door. The doll–maker opened it.
There was an odd rustling noise from the cabinets. Stiffly, I turned my head.
The doll of Walters had fallen forward. It lay half over the edge. Its arms swung, as though imploring me to take it away. I could see in its palms the marks of the crucifying nails. Its eyes were fixed on mine—
"Go!" said the doll–maker. "And remember!"
With the same stiff motion I walked through the corridor and into the shop. The girl watched me, with vague, fear–filled eyes. As though a hand were behind me, pressing me inexorably on, I passed through the shop and out of its door into the street.
I seemed to hear, did hear, the mocking evil–sweet laughter of the doll–maker!
Chapter XIV
The Doll-maker Strikes
The moment I was out in the street, volition, power of movement, returned to me. In an abrupt rush of rage, I turned to re–enter the shop. A foot from it, I was brought up as against an invisible wall. I could not advance a step, could not even raise my hands to touch the door. It was as though at that point my will refused to function, or rather that my legs and arms refused to obey my will. I realized what it was—post–hypnotic suggestion of an extraordinary kind, part of the same phenomena which had held me motionless before the doll–maker, and had sent me like a robot out of her lair. I saw McCann coming toward me, and for an instant had the mad idea of ordering him to enter and end Madame Mandilip with a bullet. Common sense swiftly told me that we could give no rational reason for such killing, and that we would probably expiate it within the same apparatus of execution with which I had threatened her.
McCann said: "I was getting worried, Doc. Just about to break in on you."
I said: "Come on, McCann. I want to get home as quickly as possible."
He looked at my face, and whistled.
"You look like you been through a battle, Doc."
I answered: "I have. And the honors are all with Madame Mandilip— so far."
"You came out quiet enough. Not like the boss, with the hag spitting hell in your face. What happened?"
"I'll tell you later. Just let me be quiet for awhile. I want to think."
What I actually wanted was to get back my self–possession. My mind seemed half–blind, groping for the tangible. It was as if it had been enmeshed in cobwebs of a peculiarly unpleasant character, and although I had torn loose, fragments of the web were still clinging to it. We got into the car and rolled on for some minutes in silence. Then McCann's curiosity got the better of him.
"Anyway," he asked, "what did you think of her?"
By this time I had come to a determination. Never had I felt anything to approach the loathing, the cold hatred, the implacable urge to kill, which this woman had aroused in me. It was not that my pride had suffered, although that was sore enough. No, it was the conviction that in the room behind the doll–shop dwelt blackest evil. Evil as inhuman and alien as though the doll–maker had in truth come straight from that hell in which Ricori believed. There could be no compromise with that evil. Nor with the woman in whom it was centered.
I said: "McCann, in all the world there is nothing so evil as that woman. Do not let the girl slip through your fingers again. Do you think she knew last night that she had been seen?"
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"Increase the guards in front and back of the place at once. Do it openly, so that the women cannot help noticing it. They will think, unless the girl is aware that she was observed, that we are still in ignorance of the other exit. They will think we believe she managed to slip out unseen either at front or back. Have a car in readiness at each end of the street where she keeps the coupe. Be careful not to arouse their suspicions. If the girl appears, follow her—" I hesitated.
McCann asked: "And then what?"
"I want her taken—abducted, kidnapped—whatever you choose to call it. It must be done with the utmost quietness. I leave that to you. You know how such things are done better than I. Do it quickly and do it quietly. But not too near the doll–shop—as far away from it as you can. Gag the girl, tie her up if necessary. But get her. Then search the car thoroughly. Bring the girl to me at my house—with whatever you find. Do you understand?"
He said: "If she shows, we'll get her. You going to put her through the third degree?"
"That—and something more. I want to see what the doll–maker will do. It may goad her into some action which will enable us to lay hands on her legitimately. Bring her within reach of the law. She may or may not have other and invisible servants, but my intention is to deprive her of the visible one. It may make the others visible. At the least, it will cripple her."