As I was rolling it, I inquired, "Any special reason we need this thing?"
"Yes," she replied.
Peters and I wrestled Valdemar's crate out to the yard, transporting the tapestry along with it. While we were loading Valdemar, I heard the neighing of a horse.
Coming around the side of the coach then was Ligeia, leading a colossal charger. She gave the beast a series of mesmeric passes as they approached.
"Help me hitch him up, Eddie," she said.
My old cavalry instincts surfaced, and I gentled the animal a bit, working him by degrees into a place between the traces. I felt sorry for the brute no matter how strong he might be, taking the place of four regular horses. Of course, we'd be riding without Emerson or our old coachman, and most of our baggage was gone.
Walking about the coach I beheld the tapestry spread upon the cobbles of the courtyard. While the one man was still engaged in stabbing the other, the great horse was missing from the foreground. I didn't even want to think about the meaning of this. I heard a laugh, however, and when I turned I saw Ligeia, hair blowing in the wind, white teeth bared; and for a moment only it seemed that a strange pale light hovered about her, but it retreated into her eyes.
"You, Eddie, shall be coachman," she said.
"I don't even know the way to Barcelona."
She pointed.
"That way," she said. "I'll give you more directions, as you need them."
I opened the door for her and handed her up inside. As I mounted to the driver's board Peters came climbing and settled himself beside me.
"If it's all the same, I'll ride up here with you," he said.
"Good. You can give me a hand with the driving."
I released the brake, shook the reins lightly and the horse began to move. We were going at a smart pace when we left the courtyard. When we struck the road it increased. Shortly, we were moving at an amazing pace. Yet the horse barely seemed to be exerting itself. It was one of the strangest things I'd ever seen. We kept going faster and faster. Soon we were racing along at the fastest pace I'd ever traveled. The countryside was becoming a blur about us.
I drove for several hours, then switched with Peters. The beast which drew us showed no signs of tiring; it still barely seemed even to be running. I drew my cloak tightly about myself and leaned back. The night-smells of spring were all about us. Only the stars stood still. Ligeia shouted another direction, and Peters took us leftward on a fork.
As I dozed, it seemed that it was Poe rather than Peters who sat beside me. But no matter how I addressed him, he refused to answer. Finally, he leapt down onto the horse's back, cut him free of the traces and left me there atop a stranded coach. But that couldn't be right... . I could still feel our movement.
And then it was Annie who sat beside me. I felt her hand upon my arm.
"Perry," she said. "Eddie."
"Annie... . It seemed as if Poe were seated there—just a little while ago. But he ignored me. Then he went away."
"I know. He moves farther and farther off. I cannot hold him to us."
"What of yourself, dear lady? I saw you at the party which turned into a dance of death. But you, Von Kempelen, and Griswold's cronies vanished at some point."
"I could feel the nearness of the doom. The others trust my warnings by now. We fled."
"I wish you had come to me."
"I know. So do I. But we've been through this before. I must not let them seal his exile."
"What of yourself otherwise? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine physically. No plague, no injuries."
"Where are you now?"
"Aboard a boat, heading downstream to the sea. Looking at a flame in a lamp, seeing you. A ship awaits us at the mouth of the stream. It has lain at anchor there for some time, against this emergency."
"What's her name?"
"The Grampus. We shall have boarded her, weighed anchor, and raised sail before you reach your own vessel at Barcelona."
"Where are you headed? I must follow, you know."
"London, to pick up some equipment."
"What sort of equipment?"
"Something Von Kempelen wants."
"For the experiment?"
"Yes."
"And after you've got it?"
"Back to America."
"Where?"
"I'm not certain yet. Somewhere up north, I believe."
"Where in London are you headed?"
"I haven't an address. But... ."
"What?"
"I've a feeling we shall not meet there. Something else looms before you. I see its cloud. That's all."
"A man can only try."
"You've striven harder than most."
"I love you, Annie. Even though it was born of the artifice of a lonely little girl looking for playmates."
"My brushwood boy..." she said, and I felt her hand touch my hair. "I could not have found you had the need and the capacity not been in you, also."
We sat in silence for a time, and then I felt her presence weaken.
"I'm getting tired, Eddie."
"I know. I wish the Red Death had been a little more enterprising when it came to your companions."
"Templeton protected them," she said, "as you and your companion were protected by the remarkable lady who released the force which drives your coach."
I wanted her to stay with me forever, but I bade her good night. Then the real dreams came on—burning bodies hanging from a chandelier, people screaming, a bleeding ape, a walking corpse... .
"Damn it Eddie damn it Eddie damn it Eddie."
I opened my eyes. Grip was perched on my shoulder, calling my attention to a luscious show of pinks and oranges which had begun in the east.
"I'll take over now, Peters," I said. "You rest."
He passed me the reins and nodded. Grip moved over to his shoulder.
"Damn it Peters damn it Peters damn it Peters... ."
We passed many neglected farms, their fields blooming with a spring growth of weeds. We paused at one point and gathered food from the cellar and store house of a farm whose owners had either died of the plague or fled the country. Our nameless steed seemed barely winded, and when I placed my hand upon him he did not feel heated. The only change I noted in him from his first appearance back at Montresor's home was a certain odd, rumpled quality to his hair and mane, as of a garment losing its hem, in the first stages of unravelment.
We rode on, Ligeia directing us to a road that followed a river downstream. It took us through a region of dark tarns and bleak woodlands. Once more—possibly twice—during this phase of our journey I thought that I felt Poe's presence. But it was gone quickly, without communication.
That afternoon we came to a hill—overlooking Barcelona, so Ligeia informed me. I had come to enjoy our unnatural speed, to the point where I wished there were time simply to ride that magnificent beast for pleasure. He was looking more and more tattered, however—large chunks of his hair blowing away with almost every pace, every breeze.
Grip came flying back from what appeared to be a harbor area.
"Damn it Guy damn it Guy damn it Guy," he announced brightly.
I heaved a heavy sigh.
"I think he's spotted the Eidolon," I said loudly.
"Follow him," Ligeia directed, and I did.
We made our way down into the town. The streets were largely deserted, though I could hear sounds of activity at either hand, and I could see people through the windows of shops and residences. There were a few on the streets, also, hurrying, and they tended to converse over a distance. I'd a feeling the worst of it could have passed here, leaving no one in a hurry to resume face-to-face sociability.
We turned a corner and much of our horse's tail was whipped away by a sudden gust of wind. Only a single strand remained where it had depended. When we were nearly to the bottom of the long slope we had been descending, one of his ears vanished, along with much of his mane. Turning upon a welltended road which followed the waterfront, I was amazed to see that the animal's hindquarters appeared to be narrowing visibly with every few steps that he took. Looking downward, I was puzzled to see that he was treading upon what appeared to be a long strand of his own hair, a thing which seemed to emerge continuously from his own person. Looking back, I saw that it extended behind us back to the most recent corner we had turned.