large/4193/great_god_pan_1108_librivox_64kb_mp3/greatgodpan_08_machen_64kb_52
large/4193/great_god_pan_1108_librivox_64kb_mp3/greatgodpan_08_machen_64kb
English
4193
For many an hour I strayed through the maze of the forest, turning now to right and now to left, pacing slowly down long alleys of undergrowth, shadowy and chill, even under the midday sun, and halting beneath great oaks; lying on the short turf of a clearing where the faint sweet scent of wild roses came to me on the wind and mixed with the heavy perfume of the elder, whose mingled odour is like the odour of the room of the dead, a vapour of incense and corruption. FOR MANY AN HOUR I STRAYED THROUGH THE MAZE OF THE FOREST TURNING NOW TO RIGHT AND NOW TO LEFT PACING SLOWLY DOWN LONG ALLEYS OF UNDERGROWTH SHADOWY AND CHILL EVEN UNDER THE MIDDAY SUN AND HALTING BENEATH GREAT OAKS LYING ON THE SHORT TURF OF A CLEARING WHERE THE FAINT SWEET SCENT OF WILD ROSES CAME TO ME ON THE WIND AND MIXED WITH THE HEAVY PERFUME OF THE ELDER WHOSE MINGLED ODOUR IS LIKE THE ODOUR OF THE ROOM OF THE DEAD A VAPOUR OF INCENSE AND CORRUPTION
ad gone before that death. On the evening of the day which I received Phillips’ letter I was at Caermaen, and standing beneath the mouldering Roman walls, white with the winters of seventeen hundred years, I looked over the meadow where once had stood the older temple of the “God of the Deeps,” and saw a house gleaming in the sunlight. It was the house where Helen had lived. I stayed at Caermaen for several days. The people of the place, I found, knew little and had guessed less. Those whom I spoke to on the matter seemed surprised that an antiquarian (as I professed myself to be) should trouble about a village tragedy, of which they gave a very commonplace version, and, as you may imagine, I told nothing of what I knew. Most of my time was spent in the great wood that rises just above the village and climbs the hillside, and goes down to the river in the valley; such another long lovely valley, Raymond, as that on which we looked one summer night, walking to and fro before your house. HEIR DAUGHTER AND BY WHAT HAD GONE BEFORE THAT DEATH ON THE EVENING OF THE DAY WHICH I RECEIVED PHILLIPS LETTER I WAS AT CAERMAEN AND STANDING BENEATH THE MOULDERING ROMAN WALLS WHITE WITH THE WINTERS OF SEVENTEEN HUNDRED YEARS I LOOKED OVER THE MEADOW WHERE ONCE HAD STOOD THE OLDER TEMPLE OF THE GOD OF THE DEEPS AND SAW A HOUSE GLEAMING IN THE SUNLIGHT IT WAS THE HOUSE WHERE HELEN HAD LIVED I STAYED AT CAERMAEN FOR SEVERAL DAYS THE PEOPLE OF THE PLACE I FOUND KNEW LITTLE AND HAD GUESSED LESS THOSE WHOM I SPOKE TO ON THE MATTER SEEMED SURPRISED THAT AN ANTIQUARIAN AS I PROFESSED MYSELF TO BE SHOULD TROUBLE ABOUT A VILLAGE TRAGEDY OF WHICH THEY GAVE A VERY COMMONPLACE VERSION AND AS YOU MAY IMAGINE I TOLD NOTHING OF WHAT I KNEW MOST OF MY TIME WAS SPENT IN THE GREAT WOOD THAT RISES JUST ABOVE THE VILLAGE AND CLIMBS THE HILLSIDE AND GOES DOWN TO THE RIVER IN THE VALLEY SUCH ANOTHER LONG LOVELY VALLEY RAYMOND AS THAT ON WHICH WE LOOKED ONE SUMMER NIGHT WALKING TO AND FRO BEFORE YOUR HOUSE
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