Weird Tales July 1936 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantastique, Pulp
ISBN: 2801193607
Publisher: Popular Fiction Publishing
Published: 1936-05-01T23:00:00+00:00

ITH hands that trembled Peters opened the leather case and extracted a cheap, rectangular mirror. Carefully he placed himself so that the light falling upon the still, siren’s face would be reflected at its greatest intensity…

He looked into the mirror. For a moment the expression on his face did not change, but remained taut with anticipatory revulsion, tense as though he steeled himself against a sight of horror. Surprizingly, then, the sickening dread passed somewhat from his eyes, although his hands still trembled violently. With an odd gesture of finality he passed the mirror to the Commissioner.

“It is not so—horrible as the other,” he muttered. “Thank God! How long has the Grant girl been dead?”

“Six—seven months,” Ethredge replied.

Peters put a hand on his arm. “Woerz had been dead for twenty years,” he mumbled. “It is she. Look for yourself.”

As Ethredge looked into that mirror, great beads of perspiration stood upon his forehead, the color drained from his face; for, seen in reflection, that face that should have bloomed with petal-like freshness was mottled with great grayish spots, blotched with angry purple. And over the whole face was spread a tinge of saffron, deepening in places almost to the dead brown of dried leaves.

“A face of death,” Ethredge whispered. “Of death, preserved from decay by the embalmer’s art.”

He had dropped the mirror and was staring incredulously at that still face; for once more it was the pallid, faintly tinted face of a sleeping girl!

“Peters!” he asked hoarsely, then, and his voice shook, “what ghastly magic is in that mirror? What law is behind all this?” And, as a macabre thought struck him, “I wonder if this woman would photograph—as she looks in that mirror!”

Doggedly, then, he stood up, his face stern, his body tense.

“Will she remain asleep?” Apprehensively he glanced at the recumbent girl.

“The legends say—until sundown,” Peters answered, with horrible conviction.

“Then come. We’ll search those other rooms—for Count Woerz!”

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