"The Vow on Halloween" (1924) by Lyllian Huntley
Halloween (2011) Edited by Paula Guran
Readers unfamiliar with "The Vow on Halloween" (1924) by Lyllian Huntley may prefer to read these notes only after reading the story.
All great horror fiction plots appear, so to speak, twice: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.
Unintentionally farcical, "The Vow on Halloween" (1924) by Lyllian Huntley recapitulates a central plot element of the strange, sublime "John Charrington's Wedding" (1891) by E. Nesbit. But in place of Nesbit's superb prose:
His lips met hers in a lingering caress.
For a moment the lanterns seemed to flicker and dim. A slight shudder ran over her slender frame. She freed herself gently.
“I cannot expect you to understand, Arthur,” Audrey replied, “why you were kept waiting. The silence encompassed the whole of the earth and sky to me. It has been a frightful reality, which my tongue refused to explain until today, and my mental anguish has well nigh swayed my reason. A year ago tonight I experienced a terrible ordeal, more uncanny because it has seemed impossible for me to shake off the pall of it. It has changed the course of my life. For a year I have lived the life of a senseless thing, a piece of clay, merely breathing, eating, sleeping, but with no soul left me—”
Her voice trailed off into nothingness, and for a while both were silent. He was awed by her utterances. His arm tightened about her.
“Poor Audrey,” he whispered, “you must have worried yourself needlessly. Is not illusion a sort of night to the mind which we people with dreams?”
“It was no illusion, Arthur, but grim reality. But last night a dream came to me which seemed to awaken my dead sensibilities, cut loose the spell under which I was living. In it I was commanded to tell you all.”
Gently he caressed her.
“Tell me what you wish, dear, and nothing more. Remember, hope is better than memory. I am listening.”
“I shall tell you all. You suffered, so nothing shall be withheld. My troubles began when my father had financial reverses. I gave music lessons to eke out a meager income. About this time, Rothschild Manny came into my life. He loved me at sight, as intensely as I loathed him. One glance from his slanting, shifty eyes was sufficient to set me cowering in my chair, and if his hand by chance touched mine, cold chills chased over my body. He was like some demon, waiting his chance to spring upon his prey.
“Imagine my dismay, when my parents immediately began insisting on my marriage with this monster! His fortune would retrieve ours and would regain the position we had lost by financial reverses. The horror of it! After one lengthy argument I felt my brain reel, and I fell upon my knees crying and imploring my father to spare me this ordeal. He was obdurate and insisted upon my consent. Finally he sent for Manny, placed my hand in his, and gave me to him formally. But not once did I encourage him, and he seemed to change into a veritable demon. His eyes would become crafty as he looked at me and his face assume an expression of sardonic intensity.
“One day, the day that is seared upon my memory, one year ago tonight, he sought me out. I was alone in the house, my father having gone to the lodge. Manny was trembling under some terrible emotion.
“ ‘Your welcome does not shine forth from your eyes, my dear,’ he said as he seated himself and took my hand.
“With a gesture of horror I jerked it away. The motion seemed, to infuriate him, and deepened the intensity of his eyes.
“ ‘I came to take you driving,’ he said, with a quick intake of his breath. ‘The night is lovely and my new car is outside. It will be yours when you are mine.’
“There was a steely intensity in his gaze directed upon me.
“ ‘I don't care to go,’ I said quietly.
“ ‘Pray reconsider. I may be able to persuade you to feel differently if you give me a chance.’
“Here I interrupted.
“ ‘I will do nothing of the sort,’ I cried, ‘I will go nowhere with you. I want nothing to do with you, and God willing, I will never be your wife!’
“My words infuriated him. He was under some powerful influence of evil. He seized my wrist and, jerking me out of my chair, shook me violently. My senses reeled, and I must have lost consciousness. All I remember was being held up by brute force, those horrible evil eyes boring malevolently into mine while he shouted in my ear:
“ ‘Remember, young lady, you will drive with me yet! Maybe not now, but some day! This is not a threat, it is a declaration, and neither stars, moon, nor even heaven itself, shall deliver you from it.’
“I was thrown violently upon the floor. Merciful oblivion came to me.
Huntley rises to the occasion as we near the story's end. A society costume ball turns phantasmagoria when Manny returns to fulfill his vow.
* * *
Douglas A. Anderson gives Huntley a shilling life here.
Jim Moon's audio version is here.
Jay
