e who chanced to meet the Great
God Pan, and those who are wise know that all symbols are symbols of
something, not of nothing. It was, indeed, an exquisite symbol beneath
which men long ago veiled their knowledge of the most awful, most secret
forces which lie at the heart of all things; forces before which the
souls of men must wither and die and blacken, as their bodies blacken
under the electric current. Such forces cannot be named, cannot be
spoken, cannot be imagined except under a veil and a symbol, a symbol to
the most of us appearing a quaint, poetic fancy, to some a foolish tale.
But you and I, at all events, have known something of the terror that
may dwell in the secret place of life, manifested under human flesh;
that which is without form taking to itself a form. Oh, Austin, how can
it be? How is it that the very sunlight does not turn to blackness
before this thing, the hard earth melt and boil beneath such a burden?'

Villiers was pacing up and down the room, and the beads of sweat stood
out on his forehead. Austin sat silent for a while, but Villiers saw him
make a sign upon his breast.

'I say again, Villiers, you will surely never enter such a house as
that? You would never pass out alive.'

'Yes, Austin, I shall go out alive--I, and Clarke with me.'

'What do you mean? You cannot, you would not dare ...'

'Wait a moment. The air was very pleasant and fresh this morning; there
was a breeze blowing, even through this dull street, and I thought I
would take a walk. Piccadilly stretched before me a clear, bright vista,
and the sun flashed on the carriages and on the quivering leaves in the
park. It was a joyous morning, and men and women looked at the sky and
smiled as they went about their work or their pleasure, and the wind
blew as blithely as upon the meadows and the scented gorse. But somehow
or other I got out of the bustle and the gaiety, and found myself
walking slowly along a quiet, dull street, where there seemed to be no
sunshine and no air, and where the few foot-passengers loitered as they
walked, and hung indecisively about corners and archways. I walked
along, hardly knowing where I was going or what I did there, but feeling
impelled, as one sometimes is, to explore still further, with a vague
idea of reaching some unknown goal. Thus I forged up the street, noting
the small traffic of the milk-shop, and wondering at the incongruous
medley of penny pipes, black tobacco, sweets, newspape