Read Online Dark Entries by Robert Aickman - Free Book Online Page B

there’ve been more than several. But even so that’s only a few. Most of them come not from the water but from the earth. It is not a pretty sight.’
    ‘Where do they go?’
    ‘I’ve never followed them to see. I’m not stark staring mad.’ The red of the fire reflected in the Commandant’s eyes. There was a long pause.
    ‘I don’t believe in the resurrection of the body,’ said Gerald. As the hour grew later, the bells grew louder. ‘Not of the body.’
    ‘What other kind of resurrection ispossible? Everything else is only theory. You can’t even imagine it. No one can.’
    Gerald had not argued such a thing for twenty years. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you advise me to go. Where?’
    ‘Where doesn’t matter.’
    ‘I have no car.’
    ‘Then you’d better walk.’
    ‘With her?’ He indicated Phrynne only with his eyes.
    ‘She’s young and strong.’ A forlorn tenderness lay within the Commandant’s words. ‘She’s twenty years younger than you and therefore twenty years more important.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Gerald. ‘I agree . . . What about you? What will you do?’
    ‘I’ve lived here some time now. I know what to do.’
    ‘And the Pascoes?’
    ‘He’s drunk. There is nothing in the world to fear if you’re thoroughly drunk. DSO and bar. DFC and bar.’
    ‘But you’re not drinking yourself?’
    ‘Not since I came to Holihaven. I lost the knack.’
    Suddenly Phrynne sat up. ‘Hallo,’ she said to the Commandant; not yet fully awake. Then she said, ‘What fun! The bells are still ringing.’
    The Commandant rose, his eyes averted. ‘I don’t think there’s anything more to say,’ he remarked, addressing Gerald. ‘You’ve still got time.’ He nodded slightly to Phrynne, and walked out of the lounge.
    ‘What have you still got time for?’ asked Phrynne, stretching. ‘Was he trying to convert you? I’m sure he’s an Anabaptist.’
    ‘Something like that,’ said Gerald, trying to think.
    ‘Shall we go to bed? Sorry, I’m so sleepy.’
    ‘Nothing to be sorry about.’
    ‘Or shall we go for another walk? That would wake me up. Besides, the tide might have come in.’
    Gerald, although he half despised himself for it, found it impossible to explain to her that they should leave at once; without transport or a destination; walk all night if necessary. He said to himself that probably he would not go even were he alone.
    ‘If you’re sleepy, it’s probably a good thing.’
    ‘Darling!’
    ‘I mean with these bells. God knows when they will stop.’ Instantly he felt a new pang of fear at what he had said.
    Mrs Pascoe had appeared at the door leading to the bar, and opposite to that from which the Commandant had departed. She bore two steaming glasses on a tray. She looked about, possibly to confirm that the Commandant had really gone.
    ‘I thought you might both like a nightcap. Ovaltine, with something in it.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Phrynne. ‘I can’t think of anything nicer.’
    Gerald set the glasses on a wicker table, and quickly finished his cognac.
    Mrs Pascoe began to move chairs and slap cushions. She looked very haggard.
    ‘Is the Commandant an Anabaptist?’ asked Phrynne over her shoulder. She was proud of her ability to outdistance Gerald in beginning to consume a hot drink.
    Mrs Pascoe stopped slapping for a moment. ‘I don’t know what that is,’ she said.
    ‘He’s left his book,’ said Phrynne, on a new tack.
    ‘I wonder what he’s reading,’ continued Phrynne. ‘Foxe’s
Lives of the Martyrs
, I expect.’ A small unusual devil seemed to have entered into her.
    But Mrs Pascoe knew the answer. ‘It’s always the same,’ she said contemptuously. ‘He only reads one. It’s called
Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World
. He’s been reading it ever since he came here. When he gets to the end, he starts again.’
    ‘Should I take it up to him?’ asked Gerald. It was neither courtesy nor inclination, but rather a fear lest the Commandant return