Read Online Haunted Castles by Ray Russell - Free Book Online Page B

me not, but went on speaking: “. . . As my guest, Sir Robert! I offer you a veritable Oriental paradise of unlimited raptures!” He laughed, then entered into a catalogue of his wife’s excellences. “Consider, sir,” he said, “that matchless bosom, like alabaster which has been imbued with the pink of the rose, those creamy limbs—”
    â€œEnough!” I cried. “I will hear no more of your foulness.” I strode to the door.
    â€œYes, you will, Sir Robert,” he said immediately. “You will hear a good deal more of my foulness. You will hear what I plan to do to your beloved Maude, should you fail to relieve me of this deformity.”
    Again, I stopped and turned. I said nothing, but waited for him to speak further.
    â€œI perceive that I have caught your interest,” he said. “Hear me: for if you think I spoke foully before, you will soon be forced to agree that my earlier words were, by comparison, as blameless as the Book of Common Prayer. If rewards do not tempt you, then threats may coerce you. In fine, Maude will be punished if you fail, Sir Robert.”
    â€œShe is an innocent.”
    â€œJust so. Hence, the more exquisite and insupportable to you should be the thought of her punishment.”
    My mind reeled. I could not believe such words were being uttered.
    â€œDeep in the bowels of this old castle,” said Sardonicus, “are dungeons. Suppose I were to tell you that my intention is to drag my wife thither and stretch her smooth body to unendurable length upon the rack—”
    â€œYou would not dare!” I cried.
    â€œMy daring or lack of it is not the issue here. I speak of the rack only that I may go on to assure you that Maude would
infinitely prefer
that dreadful machine to the punishment I have in truth designed for her. I will describe it to you. You will wish to be seated, I think.”

VII
ENTERTAINMENT FOR A MONSTER
    I will stand,” I said.
    â€œAs you please.” Sardonicus himself sat down. “Perhaps you have marvelled at the very fact of Maude’s marriage to me. When the world was so full of personable men—men like yourself, who adored her—why did she choose to wed a monster, a creature abhorrent to the eyes and who did not, moreover, have any redeeming grace of spiritual beauty, or kindness, or charm?
    â€œI first met Maude Randall in Paris. I say ‘met,’ but it would be truer simply to say I saw her—from my hotel window, in fact. Even in Paris society, which abounds in ladies of remarkable pulchritude, she was to be remarked upon. You perhaps would say I fell in love with her, but I dislike that word ‘love,’ and will merely say that the sight of her smote my senses with most agreeable emphasis. I decided to make her mine. But how? By presenting my irresistibly handsome face to her view? Hardly. I began methodically: I hired secret operatives to find out everything about her and about her mother and father—both of whom were then alive. I discovered that her father was in the habit of speculating, so I saw to it that he received some supposedly trustworthy but very bad advice. He speculated heavily and was instantly ruined. I must admit I had not planned his consequent suicide, but when that melancholy event occurred, I rejoiced, for it worked to my advantage. I presented myself to the bereaved widow and daughter, telling them the excellent qualities of Mr. Randall were widely known in the world of affairs and that I considered myself almost a close friend. I offered to help them in any possible way. By dint of excessive humility and persuasiveness, I won their trust and succeeded in diminishing their aversion to my face. This, you must understand, from first to last, occupied a period of many months. I spoke nothing of marriage, made no sign of affection towards the daughter for at least six of these months; when I did—again, with great respect and