Devereux's Dream Page #6

"Devereux's Dream" is a supernatural mystery by Joseph Thomas Sheridan Le Fanu, published in 1853. The novel follows the titular character, Edward Devereux, who confronts his own past and emerging fears through a series of haunting dreams. As Devereux navigates his nightmares, he becomes entwined in a web of intrigue, love, and spectral encounters, exploring themes of memory, identity, and the uncanny. Le Fanu's atmospheric prose and psychological depth make this work a notable example of Victorian Gothic fiction.

• Mystery

								

scented danger.

"A moment's reflection convinced Monsieur Steinmetz, though, that it
could be by no means so certain that I knew him; five minutes'
observation of me more than half satisfied him that I did not. Yet what
did I want there? What was I doing in Paris? This might concern him
nearly, he must have thought.

"I kept my own face in order, and watched his. It wasn't an easy one to
read; but you see I had studied it closely, and in a way he couldn't
have dreamed of. Monsieur Steinmetz was outwardly his wonted self, but
inwardly not quite comfortable when he rose; and I saw the evil eye
gleam on his great yellow finger as he took out his purse to pay the
garçon, just as I had seen it when that finger pointed at myself in
my dream. I felt curious sensations, Bertie, as I sat there and looked
abstractedly at Monsieur Steinmetz. I wondered how long it would be
before----But my time hadn't come yet. He went out without another
glance at me. I saw his huge form on the other side of the street when I
left the café in my turn. This I had expected. Monsieur Steinmetz was
naturally curious. It was hardly possible that I could know him; but it
was quite certain that he ought to know all about me. So, when I moved
on, he moved on; in short, Monsieur Steinmetz dogged me up one street
and down another, till he finally dogged me home to my hiding-place in
the Pays Latin. He did it very well, too--much better than you would
have expected from so apparently unwieldy a mouchard. But I
remembered how lightly he could move.

"Next day I had, of course, disappeared from my old quarters, and gone
no one knew where. I suppose Monsieur Steinmetz didn't like this fact
when he heard of it. It might have seemed suspicious. Suppose I had
recognized him? In that case I had evidently a little game of my own,
and was as evidently desirous to keep it dark. He was a cool hand; but I
fancy my man began to get a little uneasy. He took some trouble to find
me again. After a while I permitted him to do that. Once found, he
seemed determined that I should not be lost sight of again for want of
watching. I permitted that, too; it helped play my game, and I wanted to
bring it to an end. To which intent, Monsieur Steinmetz got to hear from
sources best known to himself as much of my plans as should bring him to
the state I wanted. That was a murderous state. I wanted to get him to
think that I was dangerous enough to be worth putting out of the way. I
presume he was aware there were, or would be, weak joints in his armor,
impenetrable as it seemed; and he preferred not risking the ordeal of
legal battle if he could help it. At all events, he elected at last to
rid himself of a person who might be dangerous, and was troublesome, by
the shortest and the simplest means.

"I say so because when, believing my man was ripe for this, I left Paris
about midday for a certain secluded little spot on the sea-coast, I saw
one of Monsieur Steinmetz's employees on the platform; and because,
two days after my arrival in my secluded spot, I met Monsieur Steinmetz
in person, newly arrived also. Now this was exactly what I had intended
and anticipated. Monsieur Steinmetz had come down there to put me out of
his way, if he could. He passed me, leisurely strolling in the opposite
direction, humming his favorite aria, bigger and yellower than ever,
the evil eye fiery on his finger. His own eyes shot me as evil fire; but
he said nothing.... I saw he was ripe, though.... My time was close at
hand.

"It came. Monsieur Steinmetz and I met once more in the very place where
I, knowing my ground, had intended we should meet. It was a dip in the
cliffs like a hollowed palm, and just there the cliff jutted out a good
bit, with a sheer fall on to the rocks below. It was a gray afternoon,
at the end of summer. The wind was rising fast; there was a thunder of
heavy waves already.

"I think he had been dogging me; but I hadn't chosen to let him get up
to me till now. We were quite out of sight when he had reached the level
bottom of the dip, where I had halted--quite out of sight, and quite
alone. To do him justice, he came on steadily enough. His face was liker
the sketch I had made of it, liker the face I had seen in my dream, than
it had ever looked before. Evidently he had made up his mind.... At
last, then!... Well, I had been waiting long!... He was close beside me.

"'Ah! bon jour, cher Monsieur Steinmetz.'

"'So?' he said, his little eyes contracting like a cobra's. 'Ah!
Monsieur knows my name?'

"'Among other things about you--yes.'

"'So!' The yellow face was turning grayer and harder every minute--liker
and liker to my likeness of it. 'And what other things? Has it never
appeared to you that this you do, have been doing--this meddling, may be
dangerous, hein?'

"He had changed his tone, as he had changed the person in which he
addressed me. Yes, he had certainly made up his mind. And his big right
hand was hidden inside his waistcoat, so that I could not see the evil
eye I knew was on his finger.

"'Dangerous?' he repeated slowly.

"'Possibly.'

"'Ay, surely; I shall crush you!'

"'Try.'

"'In good time; wait. You plot against me. Take care; I am strong; I
warn you. There must be an end of this, you understand, or----'

"He nodded his big head significantly.

"'You are right,' I told him; 'there must be an end. It is coming.'

"'So?'

"'Yes; I know you. You know me now.'

"'I know you. What do you want?'

"'To kill you.'

"'So?'

"'Yes; as you killed her.'

"'As I killed her? That is it, then? You know that?'

"'I know that.'

"'Well, it is true. I killed her. Now you can guess what I am going to
do to you--to you, curse you!--whom she loved.'

"The very face I had seen in my dream now, Bertie, the very face! There
was something besides the evil eye that gleamed in his right hand when
he drew it from his breast. Once more he spoke.

"'Yes, I killed her. I meant worse for you. You escaped that; but you
will not escape me now. Fool! were you mad to do this? Did not I hate
you enough? And I would have let you be. Ah, die, then, if you will have
it so!'

"His heavy right arm swung high as he spoke, and I saw the sharp steel
gleam as it turned to fall. And I twisted from his grip, and caught the
falling arm, and bent it till the dagger dropped to the ground. And
then, for a fierce, desperate, devilish minute, I had him in my clutch,
dragging him nearer the smooth, slippery edge. He was no match for me at
this I knew, and he knew; but he held me with the hold of his despair,
and I could not loose myself. Both of us together, he meant; but not I.
Yet I only freed myself just as he rolled exhausted, but clutching at
the tough, short bushes wildly, toward the brink, and partly over it....
Only the hold of his hands between him and his death. And I knelt above

								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes