The House, the Light and the Man - Gordon Philip England

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The House, The Light and the Man by Gordon Philip, England.
The house sits back some distance from the highway. All
else around is pleasing to the view, but this dark,
grim building is a blot on the landscape, encircled by
a tall, ragged hedge which conceals the lower part of

(00:23):
the building. From the eye of passers by, it seems
almost like a portion of another world and has little
in common with the neighboring dwellings. People going by glance
up at the gloomy edifice with feelings akin to terror,
then hurry on. After turning the curve in the road beyond.

(00:46):
They breathe a sigh of relief, feeling as a prisoner
freed from captivity might feel. That is during daytime. At night,
few pedestrians are daring enough to pass that dwelling. Even motorists,
when realizing they have reached its vicinity, nervously increase their

(01:06):
speed and, sweeping by in a swirl of dust, leave
the gloomy pile far behind. Yet few can pass without
first turning their eyes toward a narrow window near the
top of the building, For from that window gleams the light,
and they know that in the room behind the casement

(01:28):
is a man who fears the dark. They know the
light is always there during hours of darkness, and will
doubtless always be there while the man lives. Once it
happened some weeks after the man had come, the light
went out. And even yet, though that is fifteen years ago,

(01:52):
dwellers in nearby houses shudder when they remember the sounds
that were heard on that occasion. The unearthly shriek, the
piercing cries of utter anguish, the screams of direst terror.
All these ring in their ears as they recall that
evening and nightly. Before retiring, they pray that the light

(02:15):
may not go out. Their prayers have been mercifully answered,
for when the first shadows of twilight begin to fall,
the light also appears to burn with steady, undiminished power
until darkness is past. It has never gone out again,

(02:36):
and probably never will until the man dies then, and
not until then it will be extinguished. Gibson Jenkins pressed
the elevator bell impatiently. He glanced down the shaft expectantly,
but the elevator did not appear. He waited several minutes.

(03:00):
Still it did not come. Jenkins was much annoyed, he
had now been waiting nearly ten minutes. Ten minutes seems
a long time to a man who was in a hurry.
It was the first time Gibson Jenkins had ever been
in this department store. He had gone to see the

(03:21):
manager that afternoon to transact an item of business. While
they had been discussing terms, the telephone had rung, and
after taking a message, the manager had gone out, telling
Jenkins he would be back within five minutes. Five minutes
had lengthened into a half hour, but the manager had

(03:41):
not returned. Had Jenkins but known it. There had been
excellent reason for his non appearance. While attempting to cross
the street ahead of traffic, he had been knocked down
by a motor car and was now in an ambulance
en route to a repair shop. Jenkins, of course, was

(04:01):
unaware of this. However, he had decided not to wait longer,
and was now standing peering down the elevator shaft, muttering
anathemas against managers and elevator boys alike. After ringing several
more times, he suddenly remembered that the closing whistle had
blown several minutes before, and realized the elevator boy had

(04:24):
left the building. He also remembered having seen a flight
of stairs at the other end of the corridor, so
he went back to look for them. It was growing
dark inside the building. Jenkins noticed this and glanced at
his watch nervously. It was exactly fifteen minutes past six.

(04:46):
Jenkins disliked darkness and had no desire to remain in
the store longer. Hurrying to the stairway, he commenced the
descent hastily. Haste is not always expedient. Jenkins was too hasty. Consequently,
his foot slipped, He lost his balance and plunged downward.

(05:08):
His head struck the bottom step rather forcibly, and the
step being composed of cement. He immediately lost interest in
his surroundings. Gibson Jenkins opened his eyes wonderingly. He was
much dazed, and some minutes elapsed before he could recall

(05:29):
what had occurred. It had been twilight when he had fallen,
but it was now very dark. He could not remember
ever having been in so dark a place before. Slowly
he sat up and looked around, but it was too
dark to see anything. The only thing he could discover
was that he was at the bottom of the flight.

(05:52):
Drawing his luminous faced watch from his pocket, he tried
to ascertain the time of night. It was exactly fifteen
minutes past six. This perplexed him. It had been fifteen
minutes past six when he had fallen, hadn't it How then,
could it be the same time now. He puzzled over

(06:13):
the matter for quite a while without arriving at a
satisfactory conclusion. Then a thought leaked through into his slowly
clearing brain. And holding the watch to his ear, he listened. Yes,
it had stopped. Jenkins pressed tremulous hands against his throbbing temple.

(06:34):
How long have I been lying here? He wondered aloud,
as if in answer to his question, a big clock
somewhere in the building began to chime the hour one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,
ten eleven. Jenkins struggled to his feet eleven o'clock. He

(07:01):
had been unconscious nearly five hours. He began to grope
his way up the stairs. He was very weak, but
a plan had formulated within his mind. He would go
back to the manager's office and telephone for help. But
on reaching the top of the stairs, he stood bewildered.
He had forgotten in which direction the office lay. After

(07:25):
a moment, though he struck blindly through the intense darkness
toward where he thought the room ought to be. Having
walked several feet, he humped against a wall. Turning, he
walked in the opposite direction, hands before him, seeking for
the office door, But it was his head that struck
it finally, not his hands, struck with such force that

(07:48):
the door swung open, and stumbling through the aperture, Jenkins
fell upon hands and knees on the floor within. Rising painfully,
he groped for the telephone, but though he knocked against
other objects in the room, the telephone itself eluded him.
Jenkins now was becoming frightened. He was naturally a timid man,

(08:11):
and the events of the night had not increased his courage.
He tried again to locate the telephone, but still without success.
Then he searched his pockets for a match, and, to
his surprise, for he was not in the habit of
carrying them, he found a solitary lucifer. He lit it

(08:32):
and looked eagerly about him, and then the match fell
from his palsy's fingers to the floor, flickered and went
out Gibson Jenkins had seen enough. In fact, he had
seen too much. He was not in the office, after all,
he was in a room full of coffins. With a

(08:54):
horrified exclamation, Jenkins dashed for the door, and, for a
second time that night, haste proved his undoing, for he
ran directly against it and its slam shut. Frantically, Jenkins
searched for a doorknob. Finally finding it, he tried to
pull the door open. To his horror, it resisted his effort.

(09:18):
He pulled harder, exerting every iota of his strength, but
the door remained fast. It was equipped with a spring lock.
In the corner of the coffin room crouched Gibson Jenkins.
He was shivering from head to foot like a man
with an ugu. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead

(09:39):
and trickled slowly down his cheeks. It was no longer
utterly dark in the room. The moon had come up,
and her pale rays, streaming through a window partly illuminated
the coffin chamber. Jenkins could make out indistinctly the dim
shapes of the coffins around him, which were piled one

(10:00):
upon another to a height of several feet. Jenkins was
not looking at these, however, so much as at a
large coffin in the middle of the floor at the
opposite side of the room. Upon this one, his attention
was riveted. He felt that in this coffin lay danger.
He seemed to sense another presence in the room. He

(10:23):
could not see it, yet he was nevertheless positive it
was there, and he was also sure it was the
big coffin which contained that dangerous presence. So he squatted,
huddled in a shaking, shuddering heap, with frightened eyes fixed
upon the casket. He remembered many things while crouch there.

(10:46):
Remembered how he had once laughed at a friend who
had related a supernatural experience, and how that friend had
warned him, telling him spirits often punish those who dared
disbelieve in them. He remembered too, the other ghost stories
he had been told and had read. And at the
remembrance he shuddered more than before, and he watched the

(11:09):
coffin with a feeling that the thing contained therein was
watching him also, and was noting his every motion. At
the thought, he shrank further into his corner, seeking to
escape its gaze. Yet still it seemed following him. Now,
to his horror, Jenkins began to feel a desire to

(11:29):
go over to the coffin. He thrust back the desire,
but still it gripped him. His body and will were
struggling for mastery, and body triumphed. He began to move
toward the coffin. He tried to hold back his body,
but still it advanced. Nearer and nearer. He glided to

(11:51):
that dreadful presence. Again, the big clock struck one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
eleven twelve. It was midnight. The sound appeared to paralyze

(12:15):
Gibson Jenkins. He no longer moved in the direction of
the coffin. Instead, he squatted stock still in the middle
of the chamber. Then, to his consternation, the lid of
the coffin began to rise higher and higher. It rose,
until at last the wretched man beheld a form leaving

(12:38):
the casket, and then shriek after shriek re echoed through
the old building. In the morning, attracted by strange sounds
emanating from the coffin room, some employees opened the door.
There squatted upon the floor, rocking back and forth, mouthing

(13:01):
and gibbering inarticulately was a white haired, old looking man
whom none of them recognized. Later, however, they discovered the
name Gibson Jenkins on a calling card in his pockets.
A few days afterward, the manager, after leaving the hospital,
positively identified him. When the employees found him, he was

(13:25):
facing a big coffin lying in the center of the room.
The lid of the coffin had been raised, and the
casket was empty. A window at one end of the
room was unlocked and open. It was only a ten
foot drop to the roof of an adjoining building. On
the preceding afternoon, a thief had scooped several rings and

(13:49):
watches from a tray in the jewelry department on the
next floor. The floor walker had given chase, but had
lost him in the crowd. The detective at the entrance, however,
had claimed the man had not passed him. A thorough
search of the building revealed nothing, though so it had
been thought the detective had been mistaken. Now the management

(14:13):
believed that the thief had not left the building after all,
but had concealed himself in the coffin, intending to come
out later and obtain other booty. He had remained in
the casket several hours, wishing to assure himself that the
coast was clear before continuing operations. Then Gibbs and Jenkins

(14:35):
had entered the room and by locking the door spoiled
the robber's plans. But by making sundry, weird noises, the
burglar had worked upon Jenkins's superstitious nature until he had
reduced him to a state of helpless fright. Then leaving
the casket, the thief had made good his escape. That

(14:59):
was the theory of the man management of the department store.
His physician endeavored to make clear that theory to Gibson Jenkins,
but Gibson Jenkins was totally unable to understand it. Indeed,
as Gibson Jenkins, he no longer existed. He had now
become simply a man who feared the dark. A hundred

(15:23):
yards back from the road stands a house. It is
a strange looking house, a house which people shun from
the window of that house shines the light in the room.
Whence the light shines is a man, a man afraid
of the dark. The window is barred with rusty iron bars,

(15:47):
and the House is a madhouse. The End of the House.
The Light and the Man by Gordon Philip England