Short Fiction by Arthur Machen (ebook reader .txt) ๐
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Arthur Machen was a Welsh man of letters who wrote his most famous work in the late 1890s and early 1900s. While his body of work is wide, heโs perhaps best known for his supernaturally-flavored proto-horror short stories. The Great God Panโperhaps his most famous workโalong with โThe Inmost Lightโ and The White People deeply influenced later writers like H. P. Lovecraft. Stephen King has gone so far as to call The Great God Pan โmaybe the best [horror story] in the English language.โ
Besides his horror short stories, Machen also wrote a handful of post World War I supernatural shorts. One of these, โThe Bowmen,โ was published in a popular newspaper and was implied to be non-fiction, leading to the creation of the โAngels of Monsโ urban legend. This collection includes several other World War I short stories published by Machen.
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- Author: Arthur Machen
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โBut you remember what you wrote to me? I thought it would be requisite that sheโ โโ
He whispered the rest into the doctorโs ear.
โNot at all, not at all. That is nonsense, I assure you. Indeed, it is better as it is; I am quite certain of that.โ
โConsider the matter well, Raymond. Itโs a great responsibility. Something might go wrong; you would be a miserable man for the rest of your days.โ
โNo, I think not, even if the worst happened. As you know, I rescued Mary from the gutter, and from almost certain starvation, when she was a child; I think her life is mine, to use as I see fit. Come, it is getting late; we had better go in.โ
Dr. Raymond led the way into the house, through the hall, and down a long dark passage. He took a key from his pocket and opened a heavy door, and motioned Clarke into his laboratory. It had once been a billiard-room, and was lighted by a glass dome in the centre of the ceiling, whence there still shone a sad grey light on the figure of the doctor as he lit a lamp with a heavy shade and placed it on a table in the middle of the room.
Clarke looked about him. Scarcely a foot of wall remained bare; there were shelves all around laden with bottles and phials of all shapes and colours, and at one end stood a little Chippendale bookcase. Raymond pointed to this.
โYou see that parchment Oswald Crollius? He was one of the first to show me the way, though I donโt think he ever found it himself. That is a strange saying of his: โIn every grain of wheat there lies hidden the soul of a star.โโโ
There was not much of furniture in the laboratory. The table in the centre, a stone slab with a drain in one corner, the two armchairs on which Raymond and Clarke were sitting; that was all, except an odd-looking chair at the furthest end of the room. Clarke looked at it, and raised his eyebrows.
โYes, that is the chair,โ said Raymond. โWe may as well place it in position.โ He got up and wheeled the chair to the light, and began raising
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