CHAPTER VIII
Olaf's Story
THERE was a little silence. I looked upon him with wonder.
Clearly he was in deepest earnest. I know the psychology
of the Gael is a curious one and that deep in all their hearts
their ancient traditions and beliefs have strong and living
roots. And I was both amused and touched.
Here was this soldier, who had faced war and its ugly
realities open-eyed and fearless, picking, indeed, the most
dangerous branch of service for his own, a modern if ever
there was one, appreciative of most unmystical Broadway,
and yet soberly and earnestly attesting to his belief in banshee, in shadowy people of the woods, and phantom harpers!
I wondered what he would think if he could see the Dweller
and then, with a pang, that perhaps his superstitions might
make him an easy prey.
He shook his head half impatiently and ran a hand over
his eyes; turned to me and grinned:
"Don't think I'm cracked, Professor," he said. "I'm not.
But it takes me that way now and then. It's the Irish in me.
And, believe it or not, I'm telling you the truth."
I looked eastward where the moon, now nearly a week
past the full, was mounting.
"You can't make me see what you've seen, Lieutenant," I
laughed. "But you can make me hear. I've always wondered
what kind of a noise a disembodied spirit could make without any vocal cords or breath or any other earthly soundproducing mechanism. How does the banshee sound?"
O'Keefe looked at me seriously.
"All right," he said. "I'll show you." From deep down in
his throat came first a low, weird sobbing that mounted
steadily into a keening whose mournfulness made my skin
creep. And then his hand shot out and gripped my shoulder,
and I stiffened like stone in my chair - for from behind us,
like an echo, and then taking up the cry, swelled a wail that
seemed to hold within it a sublimation of the sorrows of
centuries! It gathered itself into one heartbroken, sobbing
note and died away! O'Keefe's grip loosened, and he rose
swiftly to his feet.
"It's all right, Professor," he said. "It's for me. It found
me - all this way from Ireland."
Again the silence was rent by the cry. But now I had located it. It came from my room, and it could mean only one
thing - Huldricksson had wakened.
"Forget your banshee!" I gasped, and made a jump for the
cabin.
Out of the corner of my eye I noted a look of half-sheepish relief flit over O'Keefe's face, and then he was beside me.
Da Costa shouted an order from the wheel, the Cantonese
ran up and took it from his hands and the little Portuguese
pattered down toward us. My hand on the door, ready to
throw it open, I stopped. What if the Dweller were within -
what if we had been wrong and it was not dependent for its
power upon that full flood of moon ray which Throckmartin had thought essential to draw it from the blue pool!
From within, the sobbing wail began once more to rise.
O'Keefe pushed me aside, threw open the door and crouched
low within it. I saw an automatic flash dully in his hand; saw
it cover the cabin from side to side, following the swift sweep
of his eyes around it. Then he straightened and his face,
turned toward the berth, was filled with wondering pity.
Through the window streamed a shaft of the moonlight.
It fell upon Huldricksson's staring eyes; in them great tears
slowly gathered and rolled down his cheeks; from his opened
mouth came the woe-laden wailing. I ran to the port and
drew the curtains. Da Costa snapped the lights.
The Norseman's dolorous crying stopped as abruptly as
though cut. His gaze rolled toward us. And at one bound
he broke through the leashes I had buckled round him and
faced us, his eyes glaring, his yellow hair almost erect with
the force of the rage visibly surging through him. Da Costa
shrunk behind me. O'Keefe, coolly watchful, took a quick
step that brought him in front of me.
"Where do you take me?" said Huldricksson, and his
voice was like the growl of a beast. "Where is my boat?"
I touched O'Keefe gently and stood before the giant.
"Listen, Olaf Huldricksson," I said. "We take you to
where the sparkling devil took your Helma and your Freda.
We follow the sparkling devil that came down from the
moon. Do you hear me?" I spoke slowly, distinctly, striving
to pierce the mists that I knew swirled around the strained
brain. And the words did pierce.
He thrust out a shaking hand.
"You say you follow?" he asked falteringly. "You know
where to follow? Where it took my Helma and my little
Freda?"
"Just that, Olaf Huldricksson," I answered. "Just that! I
pledge you my life that I know."
Da Costa stepped forward. "He speaks true, Olaf. You go
faster on the Suwarna than on the Br-rw-un'ilda, Olaf, yes."
The giant Norseman, still gripping my hand, looked at
him. "I know you, Da Costa," he muttered. "You are all
right. Ja! You are a fair man. Where is the Brunhilda?"
"She follow be'ind on a big rope, Olaf," soothed the Portuguese. "Soon you see her. But now lie down an' tell us, if
you can, why you tie yourself to your wheel an' what it is
that happen, Olaf."
"If you'll tell us how the sparkling devil came it will help
us all when we get to where it is, Huldricksson," I said.
On O'Keefe's face there was an expression of well-nigh ludicrous doubt and amazement. He glanced from one to the
other. The giant shifted his own tense look from me to the
Irishman. A gleam of approval lighted in his eyes. He loosed
me, and gripped O'Keefe's arm. "Staerk!" he said. "Ja -
strong, and with a strong heart. A man - ja! He comes too -
we shall need him - ja!"
"I tell," he muttered, and seated himself on the side of the
bunk. "It was four nights ago. My Freda" - his voice shook
- "Mine Yndling! She loved the moonlight. I was at the
wheel and my Freda and my Helma they were behind me.
The moon was behind us and the Brunhilda was like a swanboat sailing down with the moonlight sending her, ja.
"I heard my Freda say: 'I see a nisse coming down the
track of the moon.' And I hear her mother laugh, low, like a
mother does when her Yndling dreams. I was happy - that
night - with my Helma and my Freda, and the Brunhilda
sailing like a swan-boat, ja. I heard the child say, 'The nisse
comes fast!' And then I heard a scream from my Helma, a
great scream - like a mare when her foal is torn from her. I
spun around fast, ja! I dropped the wheel and spun fast! I
saw - " He covered his eyes with his hands.
The Portuguese had crept close to me, and I heard him
panting like a frightened dog.
"I saw a white fire spring over the rail," whispered Olaf
Huldricksson. "It whirled round and round, and it shone like
- like stars in a whirlwind mist. There was a noise in my
ears. It sounded like bells - little bells, ja! Like the music
you make when you run your finger round goblets. It made
me sick and dizzy - the hell noise.
"My Helma was - indeholde - what you say - in the middle of the white fire. She turned her face to me and she
turned it on the child, and my Helma's face burned into my
heart. Because it was full of fear, and it was full of happiness - of glaede. I tell you that the fear in my Helma's face
made me ice here" - he beat his breast with clenched hand -
"but the happiness in it burned on me like fire. And I could
not move - I could not move.
"I said in here" - he touched his head - "I said, 'It is Loki
come out of Helvede. But he cannot take my Helma, for
Christ lives and Loki has no power to hurt my Helma or my
Freda! Christ lives! Christ lives!' I said. But the sparkling
devil did not let my Helma go. It drew her to the rail; half
over it. I saw her eyes upon the child and a little she broke
away and reached to it. And my Freda jumped into her
arms. And the fire wrapped them both and they were gone! A
little I saw them whirling on the moon track behind the
Brunhilda - and they were gone!
"The sparkling devil took them! Loki was loosed, and he
had power. I turned the Brunhilda, and I followed where
my Helma and mine Yndling had gone. My boys crept up
and asked me to turn again. But I would not. They dropped
a boat and left me. I steered straight on the path. I lashed
my hands to the wheel that sleep might not loose them. I
steered on and on and on -
"Where was the God I prayed when my wife and child
were taken?" cried Olaf Huldricksson - and it was as though
I heard Throckmartin asking that same bitter question. "I
have left Him as He left me, ja! I pray now to Thor and to
Odin, who can fetter Loki." He sank back, covering again
his eyes.
"Olaf," I said, "what you have called the sparkling devil
has taken ones dear to me. I, too, was following it when we
found you. You shall go with me to its home, and there we
will try to take from it your wife and your child and my
friends as well. But now that you may be strong for what is
before us, you must sleep again."
Olaf Huldricksson looked upon me and in his eyes was
that something which souls must see in the eyes of Him the
old Egyptians called the Searcher of Hearts in the Judgment
Hall of Osiris.
"You speak truth!" he said at last slowly. "I will do what
you say!"
He stretched out an arm at my bidding. I gave him a second injection. He lay back and soon he was sleeping. I turned
toward Da Costa. His face was livid and sweating, and he
was trembling pitiably. O'Keefe stirred.
"You did that mighty well, Dr. Goodwin," he said. "So
well that I almost believed you myself."
"What did you think of his story, Mr. O'Keefe?" I asked.
His answer was almost painfully brief and colloquial.
"Nuts!" he said. I was a little shocked, I admit. "I think
he's crazy, Dr. Goodwin," he corrected himself, quickly.
"What else could I think?"
I turned to the little Portuguese without answering.
"There's no need for any anxiety tonight, Captain," I said.
"Take my word for it. You need some rest yourself. Shall I
give you a sleeping draft?"
"I do wish you would, Dr. Goodwin, sair," he answered
gratefully. "Tomorrow, when I feel bettair - I would have a
talk with you."
I nodded. He did know something then! I mixed him an
opiate of considerable strength. He took it and went to his
own cabin.
I locked the door behind him and then, sitting beside the
sleeping Norseman, I told O'Keefe my story from end to end.
He asked few questions as I spoke. But after I had finished
he cross-examined me rather minutely upon my recollections of the radiant phases upon each appearance, checking
these with Throckmartin's observations of the same phenomena in the Chamber of the Moon Pool.
"And now what do you think of it all?" I asked.
He sat silent for a while, looking at Huldricksson.
"Not what you seem to think, Dr. Goodwin," he answered
at last, gravely. "Let me sleep over it. One thing of course
is certain - you and your friend Throckmartin and this man
here saw - something. But - " he was silent again and then
continued with a kindness that I found vaguely irritating -
"but I've noticed that when a scientist gets superstitious it -
er - takes very hard!
"Here's a few things I can tell you now though," he went
on while I struggled to speak - "I pray in my heart that we'll
meet neither the Dolphin nor anything with wireless on
board going up. Because, Dr. Goodwin, I'd dearly love to
take a crack at your Dweller.
"And another thing," said O'Keefe. "After this - cut out
the trimmings, Doc, and call me plain Larry, for whether I
think you're crazy or whether I don't, you're there with the
nerve, Professor, and I'm for YOU.
"Good night!" said Larry and took himself out to the deck
hammock he had insisted upon having slung for him, refusing the captain's importunities to use his own cabin.
And it was with extremely mixed emotions as to his compliment that I watched him go. Superstitious. I, whose pride
was my scientific devotion to fact and fact alone! Superstitious - and this from a man who believed in banshees and
ghostly harpers and Irish wood nymphs and no doubt in
leprechauns and all their tribe!
Half laughing, half irritated, and wholly happy in even
the part promise of Larry O'Keefe's comradeship on my venture, I arranged a couple of pillows, stretched myself out on
two chairs and took up my vigil beside Olaf Huldricksson.
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