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us at the mouth of the stream. It has lain at anchor there for some time, against this emergency."
"What's her name?"
"TheGrampus . We shall have boarded her, weighed anchor, and raised sail before you reach your own
vessel at Barcelona."
"Where are you headed? I must follow, you know."
"London, to pick up some equipment."
"What sort of equipment?"
"Something Von Kempelen wants."
"For the experiment?"
"Yes."
"And after you've got it?"
"Back to America."
"Where?"
"I'm not certain yet. Somewhere up north, I believe."
"Where in London are you headed?"
"I haven't an address. But. . . ."
"What?"
"I've a feeling we shall not meet there. Something else looms before you. I see its cloud. That's all."
"A man can only try."
"You've striven harder than most."
"I love you, Annie. Even though it was born of the artifice of a lonely little girl looking for playmates."
"My brushwood boy. . ." she said, and I felt her hand touch my hair. "I could not have found you had the
need and the capacity not been in you, also."
We sat in silence for a time, and then I felt her presence weaken.
"I'm getting tired, Eddie."
"I know. I wish the Red Death had been a little more enterprising when it came to your companions."
"Templeton protected them," she said, "as you and your companion were protected by the remarkable
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lady who released the force which drives your coach."
I wanted her to stay with me forever, but I bade her good night. Then the real dreams came on burning
bodies hanging from a chandelier, people screaming, a bleeding ape, a walking corpse. . . .
"Damn it Eddie damn it Eddie damn it Eddie."
I opened my eyes. Grip was perched on my shoulder, calling my attention to a luscious show of pinks
and oranges which had begun in the east.
"I'll take over now, Peters," I said. "You rest."
He passed me the reins and nodded. Grip moved over to his shoulder.
"Damn it Peters damn it Peters damn it Peters. . . ."
* * *
We passed many neglected farms, their fields blooming with a spring growth of weeds. We paused at
one point and gathered food from the cellar and store house of a farm whose owners had either died of
the plague or fled the country. Our nameless steed seemed barely winded, and when I placed my hand
upon him he did not feel heated. The only change I noted in him from his first appearance back at
Montresor's home was a certain odd, rumpled quality to his hair and mane, as of a garment losing its
hem, in the first stages of unravelment.
We rode on, Ligeia directing us to a road that followed a river downstream. It took us through a region
of dark tarns and bleak woodlands. Once more possibly twice during this phase of our journey I
thought that I felt Poe's presence. But it was gone quickly, without communication.
That afternoon we came to a hill overlooking Barcelona, so Ligeia informed me. I had come to enjoy
our unnatural speed, to the point where I wished there were time simply to ride that magnificent beast for
pleasure. He was looking more and more tattered, however large chunks of his hair blowing away with
almost every pace, every breeze.
Grip came flying back from what appeared to be a harbor area.
"Damn it Guy damn it Guy damn it Guy," he announced brightly.
I heaved a heavy sigh.
"I think he's spotted theEidolon," I said loudly.
"Follow him," Ligeia directed, and I did.
We made our way down into the town. The streets were largely deserted, though I could hear sounds of
activity at either hand, and I could see people through the windows of shops and residences. There were
a few on the streets, also, hurrying, and they tended to converse over a distance. I'd a feeling the worst of
it could have passed here, leaving no one in a hurry to resume face-to-face sociability.
We turned a corner and much of our horse's tail was whipped away by a sudden gust of wind. Only a
single strand remained where it had depended. When we were nearly to the bottom of the long slope we
had been descending, one of his ears vanished, along with much of his mane. Turning upon a well-tended
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road which followed the waterfront, I was amazed to see that the animal's hindquarters appeared to be
narrowing visibly with every few steps that he took. Looking downward, I was puzzled to see that he
was treading upon what appeared to be a long strand of his own hair, a thing which seemed to emerge
continuously from his own person. Looking back, I saw that it extended behind us back to the most
recent corner we had turned.
I was about to petition Ligeia for advice, when a barrel came rolling down a hilly sidestreet, escaped
from a pair of men who were loading a cart up that way.
For the first time, our steed was distracted. As if aware of his diminished condition, he turned his frayed
head in the direction of the oncoming barrel. For the first (and last) time, also, he uttered a strange
sound a half-neighed bellow, which sounded as if it rolled and echoed its way to us from a great
distance, off peaks and down mountain passes. Suddenly then, he was galloping. Whatever force it was
that had moved him at supernatural velocities earlier, it came over him once again. Ships, piers,
waterfront buildings became a blur. And the horse before me began to dissolve. Soon he was the size of
a Shetland pony, though much more irregular in outline. Yet his strength held, despite the diminishment in
stature; and we rushed through the harbor at a terrible pace. Soon it was as if a large dog drew our
coach, a small one, an unwinding shadow. Then, realizing its plight, the shrunken creature reared, emitting
a small, trumpet-like note. The coach passed over it. I looked back and all that I saw was a piece of
string lying in the street. I drew hard upon the brake, but it did not slow us. Peters reached over then and
pushed my hand away. He drew back upon the lever meant to restrain a wheel. Feet braced against the
board, he pulled. His shirtsleeve was torn by his expanding biceps and a smell of smoke rose from
below. But we began to slow.
It was fortunate that traffic was very light. We halted near to a stack of crates, piers to our left, gray gulls
swooping and calling. Peters released his grip by degrees, raised his arm slowly then and pointed.
"There be theEidolon, Eddie. The beasty did a good job o' gettin' us where we was goin'."
As we were climbing to the ground, I overheard Ligeia mutter,"Pax vobiscum, Metzengerstein."
Later, as Peters and I were unloading Valdemar and a few other items, and crewmen were coming in
our direction from the ship to assist in their transport, I happened to glance skyward. My gaze was taken
by a cloud formed in the distinct colossal figure of a horse, of an unnatural color.
* * *
I told Captain Guy to set sail immediately for England, and that I would brief him as soon as we were
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