large/4193/great_god_pan_1108_librivox_64kb_mp3/greatgodpan_07_machen_64kb_35
large/4193/great_god_pan_1108_librivox_64kb_mp3/greatgodpan_07_machen_64kb
English
4193
It was, indeed, an exquisite symbol beneath which men long ago veiled their knowledge of the most awful, most secret forces which lie at the heart of all things; forces before which the souls of men must wither and die and blacken, as their bodies blacken under the electric current. IT WAS INDEED AN EXQUISITE SYMBOL BENEATH WHICH MEN LONG AGO VEILED THEIR KNOWLEDGE OF THE MOST AWFUL MOST SECRET FORCES WHICH LIE AT THE HEART OF ALL THINGS FORCES BEFORE WHICH THE SOULS OF MEN MUST WITHER AND DIE AND BLACKEN AS THEIR BODIES BLACKEN UNDER THE ELECTRIC CURRENT
” Austin took the manuscript, but never read it. Opening the neat pages at haphazard his eye was caught by a word and a phrase that followed it; and, sick at heart, with white lips and a cold sweat pouring like water from his temples, he flung the paper down. “Take it away, Villiers, never speak of this again. Are you made of stone, man? Why, the dread and horror of death itself, the thoughts of the man who stands in the keen morning air on the black platform, bound, the bell tolling in his ears, and waits for the harsh rattle of the bolt, are as nothing compared to this. I will not read it; I should never sleep again.” “Very good. I can fancy what you saw. Yes; it is horrible enough; but after all, it is an old story, an old mystery played in our day, and in dim London streets instead of amidst the vineyards and the olive gardens. We know what happened to those who chanced to meet the Great God Pan, and those who are wise know that all symbols are symbols of something, not of nothing. AINED SOME SEVERE SHOCK TO THE NERVES AUSTIN TOOK THE MANUSCRIPT BUT NEVER READ IT OPENING THE NEAT PAGES AT HAPHAZARD HIS EYE WAS CAUGHT BY A WORD AND A PHRASE THAT FOLLOWED IT AND SICK AT HEART WITH WHITE LIPS AND A COLD SWEAT POURING LIKE WATER FROM HIS TEMPLES HE FLUNG THE PAPER DOWN TAKE IT AWAY VILLIERS NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN ARE YOU MADE OF STONE MAN WHY THE DREAD AND HORROR OF DEATH ITSELF THE THOUGHTS OF THE MAN WHO STANDS IN THE KEEN MORNING AIR ON THE BLACK PLATFORM BOUND THE BELL TOLLING IN HIS EARS AND WAITS FOR THE HARSH RATTLE OF THE BOLT OR AS NOTHING COMPARED TO THIS I WILL NOT READ IT I SHOULD NEVER SLEEP AGAIN VERY GOOD I CAN FANCY WHAT YOU SAW YES IT IS HORRIBLE ENOUGH BUT AFTER ALL IT IS AN OLD STORY AN OLD MYSTERY PLAYED IN OUR DAY AND IN DIM LONDON STREETS INSTEAD OF AMIDST THE VINEYARDS AND THE OLIVE GARDENS WE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THOSE WHO CHANCED TO MEET THE GREAT GOD PAN AND THOSE WHO ARE WISE KNOW THAT ALL SYMBOLS ARE SYMBOLS OF SOMETHING NOT OF NOTHING
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