Free The Year's Best Horror Stories 7 by Gerald W. Page Page B

people."
    The two backers stuttered admiringly at her. Pursuivant bowed and Laurel smiled. Gonda Chastel gave Cobbett her slim, cool hand. "You know so much about this thing we're trying to do here," she said, in a voice like cream.
    Drumm watched them. His face looked plaintive.
    "Judge Pursuivant has taught me a lot, Miss Chastel," said Cobbett. "He'll tell you that once he knew your mother."
    "I remember her, not very clearly," said Gonda Chastel. "She died when I was just a little thing, thirty years ago. And I followed her here, now I make my home here."
    "You look very like her," said Pursuivant.
    "I'm proud to be like my mother in any way," she smiled at them. She could be overwhelming, Cobbett told himself.
    "And Miss Parcher," went on Gonda Chastel, turning toward Laurel. "What a little presence she is. She should be in our show-I don't know what part, but she should." She smiled dazzlingly. "Now then, Phil wants me on stage."
    "Knock-at-the-door number, Gonda," said Drumm.
    Gracefully she mounted the steps. The piano sounded, and she sang. It was the best song, felt Cobbett, that he had heard so far in the rehearsals. "Are they seeking for a shelter from the night?" Gonda Chastel sang richly. Caspar Merritt entered, to join in a recitative. Then the chorus streamed on, singing somewhat shrilly.
    Pursuivant and Laurel had sat down. Cobbett strode back up the aisle and out under a moon that rained silver-blue light.
    He found his way to the churchyard. The trees that had offered pleasant afternoon shade now made a dubious darkness. He walked underneath branches that seemed to lower like hovering wings as he approached the tomb structure at the center.
    The barred door feat had been massively locked now stood open. He peered into the gloom within. After a moment he stepped across the threshold upon the flagged floor.
    He had to grope, with one hand upon the rough wall. At last he almost stumbled upon the great stone chest at the rear.
    It, too, was flung open, its lid heaved back against the wall.
    There was, of course, complete darkness within it. He flicked on his cigar lighter. The flame showed him the inside of the stone coffer, solidly made and about ten feet long. Its sides of gray marble were snugly fitted. Inside lay a coffin of rich dark wood with silver fittings and here, yet again, was an open lid.
    Bending close to the smudged silk lining, Cobbett seemed to catch an odor of stuffy sharpness, like dried herbs. He snapped off his light and frowned in the dark. Then he groped back to the door, emerged into the open, and headed for the theater again.
    "Mr. Cobbett," said the beautiful voice of Gonda Chastel.
    She stood at the graveyard's edge, beside a sagging willow. She was almost as tall as he. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight.
    "You came to find the truth about my mother," she half-accused.
    "I was bound to try," he replied. "Ever since I saw a certain face at a certain window of a certain New York hotel."
    She stepped back from him. "You know that she's a-"
    "A vampire," Cobbett finished for her. "Yes."
    "I beg you to be helpful-merciful." But there was no supplication in her voice. "I already realized, long ago. That's why I live in little Deslow. I want to find a way to give her rest. Night after night, I wonder how."
    "I understand that," said Cobbett.
    Oonda Chastel breathed deeply. "You know all about these things. I think there's something about you that could daunt a vampire."
    "If so, I don't know what it is," said Cobbett truthfully.
    "Make me a solemn promise. That you won't return to her tomb, that you won't tell others what you and I know about her. I-I want to think how we two together can do something for her."
    "If you wish, I'll say nothing," he promised. Her hand clutched his.
    "The cast took a five-minute break, it must be time to go to work again," she said, suddenly bright "Let's go back and help the thing along." They went.
    Inside, the performers were gathering on stage. Drumm stared