“Then turning again to me, he continued, ‘You may live, but on certain terms. What these terms are I will now explain to you. First of all you must swear a great oath — never to reveal by word or deed, by any hint or by any turn of demeanour, what you have learned in this hall. The oath which you must fulfil I will tell you, and you must repeat the words after me: I SWEAR BY ZOROASTER AND THE BEARD OF THE PROPHET, BY URIENS, PAYMON, EGYN, AND AMAYMON, BY MARBUEL, ACIEL, BARBIEL, MEPHISTOPHIEL, AND APADIEL, BY DIRACHIEL, AMNODIEL, AMUDIEL, TAGRIEL, GELIEL, AND REQUIEL, AND BY ALL THE FOUL SPIRITS OF HELL, THAT I WILL NEVER REVEAL OR IN ANY MANNER CAUSE TO BE KNOWN ANY SLIGHT HINT OF WHAT I HAVE SEEN AND, HEARD IN THIS HALL.’
“When I had solemnly repeated this oath, he explained to me that this was but the first part of the ordeal, and that perhaps I might not have grasped its full immensity. Each of the infernal names that I had invoked possessed its own separate power of torture. By the magician’s power invested in himself he was able to control the actions of these demons. If I infringed the oath, each separate one would, through all eternity, inflict upon me the separate torture of which he was master. But that, he said, was but the smallest part of my punishment.
“ ‘I come now,’ said he, ‘to graver matters.’
“Turning to the henchman, he said, ‘The goblet, please.’
“The henchman, who knew the ritual, presented the goblet to the President.
“ ‘This,’ he said, turning again to me, ‘is a goblet of bull’s blood. You must drink every drop, without taking breath while you drink. If you fail to do so, you will instantly become a cow, and be pursued forever by the ghost of the bull whose blood you will have failed to drink in due manner.’ I took the goblet from him, drew a long breath, closed my eyes, and swallowed the noxious draught.
“ ‘Two-thirds of the ordeal,’ he said, ‘are now fulfilled. The last part is slightly more inconvenient. We have decreed, as you are unfortunately aware, that on the 15th of November, twenty-one heads of state shall die. We decided also that the glory of our nation demands the death of Professor N. But we felt that there would be a lack of symmetry if one of us were to undertake this just execution. Before we discovered your presence, we delegated this task to my henchman. But your arrival, while in many ways inopportune, has in one respect provided us with an opportunity for neatness which it would be unwise and inartistic to neglect. You, and not my henchman, shall carry out this execution. And this to do you shall swear by the same oath by which you swore secrecy.’
“ ‘Oh, sir!’ I said, ‘do not put upon me this terrible burden. You know much, but I doubt whether you know that it has been both my duty and my pleasure to assist Professor N in his researches. I have had nothing but kindness from him. It may be that his views on decorative art are not all that you could wish. Can you not permit me to continue serving him as before, and gradually I could wean him from his errors. I am not without influence upon the course of his thoughts. Several years of close association have shown me ways of guiding his inclinations in this direction or that, and I am persuaded that if you will but grant me time I can bring him round to your opinions on the function of Corsica in pre-Celtic decorative art. To slay this good old man, whom I have regarded as a friend and who has hitherto, and not unjustly, regarded me in not unlike manner, would be almost as terrible as the pursuit of the many fiends whom you have caused me to invoke. Indeed, I doubt whether life is worth purchasing at such a price.’
“ ‘Nay, my good maiden,’ said he, ‘I fear you are still indulging in illusions. The oath you have already taken was a sinful and blasphemous oath, and has put you forever in the power of the fiends, unless I, by my magic art, choose to restrain them. You cannot escape now. You must do my will or suffer.’ I wept, I implored him, I knelt and clasped his knees. ‘Have mercy,’ I said, ‘have mercy.’ But he remained unmoved. ‘I have spoken,’ he said. ‘If you do not wish to suffer forever the fifteen separate kinds of torment that will be inflicted by each of the fifteen fiends you have invoked, you must repeat after me, using the same dread names, the oath that on the 15th of November you will cause the death of Professor N.’
“Alas! dear Professor. It is impossible that you should pardon me, but in my weakness I swore this second oath. The 15th is rapidly approaching, and I see not how I am to escape, when that day comes, the dread consequences of my frightful oath. As soon as I got away from that dreadful castle, remorse seized me and has gnawed at my vitals ever since. Gladly would I suffer the fifteen diverse torments of the fifteen fiends, could I but persuade myself that in doing so I should be fulfilling the behests of duty. But I have sworn, and honour demands that I should fulfil my oath. Which is the greater sin, to murder the good man whom I revere, or to be false to the dictates of honour? I know not. But you, dear Professor, you who are so wise, you, I am sure, can resolve my doubts and show me the clear path of duty.”
The Professor, as her narrative advanced towards its climax, somewhat surprisingly recovered cheerfulness and calm. With a kindly smile, with folded hands and a completely peaceful demeanour, he replied to her query.
“My dear young lady,” he said, “nothing, nothing on earth, should be allowed to override the dictates of honour. If it lies in your power you must fulfil your oath. My work is completed, and my remaining years, if any, could have little importance. I should therefore tell you in the most emphatic manner that it is your duty to fulfil your oath if it is in any way possible. I should regret, however, I might even say I should regret deeply, that as a consequence of your sense of honour you should end your life upon the gallows. There is one thing, and one thing only, which can absolve you from your oath, and that is physical impossibility. You cannot kill a dead man.”
So saying, he put his thumb and forefinger into his waistcoat pocket and with a lightning gesture conveyed them to his mouth. In an instant he was dead.
“Oh, my dear master,” cried Miss X, throwing herself upon his lifeless corpse, “how can I bear the light of day now that you have sacrificed your life for mine? How can I endure the shame that every hour of sunshine and every moment of seeming happiness will generate in my soul? Nay, not another moment can I endure this agony.”
With these words, she found the same pocket, imitated his gesture, and expired.
“I have not lived in vain,” said I, “for I have witnessed two noble deaths.”
But then I remembered that my task was not done, since the world’s unworthy rulers must, I supposed, be saved from extinction. Reluctantly I bent my footsteps towards Scotland Yard.
Margaret Norris
A Case of Identities
The Sherlock Holmes parody-pastiche to end all Sherlock Holmes parody-pastiches...
It was one of those glorious mornings that can happen so unexpectedly in early spring. Until now the weather had been reluctant to admit that winter was really past, and cold damp breezes had kept even the most adventurous from rambling in the park except in heavy overcoats and wool mufflers.