Dracula's Guest & Other Weird Tales - The Burial of the Rats, part 2

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
The Burial of the Rats Part two. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Recording by Hayley Flag The Burial of the Rats by
Bram Stoker, Part two. As noutionalately as I could, I

(00:27):
turned slightly on my stool so as to get my
right leg well under me. Then, with a sudden jump,
turn in my head and garden it with my hands.
And with a fighting instinct of the knights of old,
I breathed my lady's name and hurled myself against the
back wall of the hut. Watchful as they were, the
suddenness of my movement surprised both Pierre and the old woman.

(00:48):
As I crashed through the rotten timbers, I saw the
old woman rise with a leap like a tiger, and
heard her low gasp of baffled rage. My feet lit
on something that moved, and as I jumped away, I
knew that I had stepped on the back of one
of the row of men lying on their faces outside
the hut. I was torn with nails and splinters, but
otherwise unhurt. Breathless, I rushed up the mound in front

(01:09):
of me. Herein as I went the dull crash of
the shanty as it collapsed into a mass. It was
a nightmare climb. The mound, though but low, was awfully steep,
and with each step I took the mass of dust
and cinders, tore down with me and gave I under
my feet the dust rose and choked me. It was sickening, fedid, awful,

(01:31):
but my climb was. I felt for life or death,
and I struggled on the second seemed hours. But the
few moments I had and starting, combined with my youth
and strength, gave me a great advantage. And though several
forms struggled after me in deadly silence, which was more
dreadful than any sound, I easily reached the top. Since then,

(01:52):
I've climbed the cone of Vesuvius, and as I struggled
up that dreary steep amid the sulfurous fumes, the memory
of that awful night at Montrouge came back to me
so vividly that I almost drew faint. The mound was
one of the tallest in the region of dust, and
as I struggled to the top. Pattent for breath, with
my heart beating like a sledge hammer, I saw way
to my left the dull, red gleam of the sky,

(02:14):
and nearer still the flashing of lights. Thank god, I
knew where I was now and where lay the road
to Paris. For two or three seconds I paused and
looked back. My pursuers were still well behind me, but
struggling up resolutely and in deadly silence. Beyond the shanty
was a wreck, a mass of timber and moving forms.

(02:35):
I could see it well, for flames were already bursting out.
The rags and straw had evidently caught fire from the lantern.
Still silence, there, not a sound. Those old wretches could
die game anyhow, I had no time for more than
a passing glance, for as I cast an eye round
the mound, preparatory to make in my descent, I saw

(02:55):
several dark forms rushing round on either side to cut
me off on my way. It was now a race
for life. They were trying to head me on my
way to Paris, and with the instinct of the moment,
I dashed down to the right hand side. I was
just in time for though I came, as it seemed
to me down the steep in a few steps. The
wary old men who were watching me turn back, and one,

(03:17):
as I rushed by into the opening between the two
mounds in front, almost struck me a blow with that
terrible butcher's axe. There could surely not be two such
weapons about. Then began a really horrible chase. I easily
ran ahead of the old men, and even when some
younger ones and a few women joined in the hunt,
I easily distanced them. But I did not know the way,

(03:38):
and I could not even guide myself by the light
in the sky, for I was running away from it.
I had heard that on less of conscious purpose, hunted
men turn always to the left, and so I found
it now, And so I suppose knew also my pursuers,
who were more animals than men, and with cunning or instinct,
had found out such secrets for themselves. For on finishing

(04:01):
a quick spurt, after which I intended to take a
moment's breathing space, I suddenly saw ahead of me two
or three forms swiftly passing behind a mound to the right.
I was in the spider's web now, indeed, but with
a thought of this new danger came the resource of
the hunted, and so I darted down the next turn
into the right. I continued in this direction for some

(04:22):
hundred yards, and then taking a turn to the left again,
felt certain that I had, at any rate avoided the
danger of being surrounded, but not of pursuit. For on
came the rabble after me, steady dogged, relentless and still
in grim silence. In the greater darkness. The mound seemed
now to be somewhat smaller than before, although for the

(04:43):
night was closing, they looked bigger in proportion. I was
now well ahead of my pursuers, so I made a
dart up the mound in front. Oh, joy of joys,
I was close to the edge of this inferno of
dustieps away behind me, the red light of Paris was
in the sky, and towering up behind rose the huh
heights of montmart a dim light, with here and there

(05:03):
brilliant points like stars restored to vigor. In a moment,
I ran over the few remaining mounds of decrease in
size and found myself on the level land beyond. Even then, however,
the prospect was not inviting. All before me was dark
and dismal, and I had evidently come on one of
those dank, low lyon waste places which are found here

(05:24):
and there in the neighborhood of great cities, places of
waste and desolation, where the space is required for the
ultimate agglomeration of all that is noxious, and the ground
is so poor as to create no desire of occupancy
even in the lowest squatter. With eyes accustomed to the
gloom of the evening, and away now from the shadows
of those dreadful dust heeps, I could see much more

(05:46):
easily than I could a little while ago. It might
have been, of course, that the glare in the sky
of the lights of Paris, though the city was some
miles away, was reflected here. Howsoever, it was I saw
well enough to take barrens. For certainly, some little distance
around me in front was a bleak, flat waste that
seemed almost a dead level with here and there the

(06:08):
dark shimmering of stagnant pools. Seemingly far off. On the right,
amid a small cluster of scattered lights, rose a dark
mass of Fort Montrouge, and away to the left in
the dim distance, pointed with stray gleams from cottage windows.
The lights in the sky showed the locality of et cetera.
A moment's thought decided me to take to the right

(06:28):
and try to reach Montrouge. There at least would be
some sort of safety, and I might possibly long before
come on some of the cross roads, which I knew
somewhere not far off, must lie the strategic road made
to connect the outlying chain of forts circling the city.
Then I looked back, coming over the mounds, and outlined
black against the glare of the Parisian horizon, I saw

(06:50):
several moving figures, and still away to the right, several
more deploying out between me and my destination. They evidently
meant to cut me off in this direction, and so
my choice became constricted. It lay now between going straight
ahead or turning to the left, stooping down to the
ground so as to get the advantage of the horizon
as a line of sight. I looked carefully in that direction,

(07:13):
but could detect no sign in my enemies. I argued
that as I had not guarded, or were not trying
to guard, that point, there was evidently danger to me
there already. So I made up my mind to go
straight on before me. It was not an inviting prospect,
and as I went on, the reality grew worse. The
ground became soft and oozy, and now and again gave

(07:33):
way beneath me in a sickening kind of way. I
seemed somehow to be going down, for I saw around
me places seemingly more elevated than where I was, and
this in a place which, from a little way back
seemed dead level. I looked around but could see none
of my pursuers. This was strange, for all along these
birds of the night had followed me through the darkness

(07:55):
as well as though it were broad daylight. Now I
blind myself for coming out in my light tourists suit
of tweed. The silence and my not being able to
see my enemies whilst I felt that they were watching
me grew appalling, and in the hope of someone not
of this ghastly grew hearing me. I raised my voice
and shouted several times. There was not the slightest response,

(08:17):
not even an echo rewarded my efforts. For a while,
I stood stock still and kept my eyes in one direction.
On one of the rising places around me, I saw
something dark move along, then another, and another this was
to my left, and seemingly moving to head me off.
I thought that again I might, with my skill as

(08:38):
a runner, elude my enemies at this game, and so
with all my speed darted forward. Splash. My feet had
given way in a mass of slimy rubbish, and I
had fallen headlong into a reaking, stagnant pool. The water
and the mud in which my arms sank up to
the elbows was filthy and nauseous beyond description, and in
the suddenness of my fall, it actually swallowed some of

(09:01):
the filthy stuff, which nearly choked me and made me
gasp for breath. Never shall I forget the moments during
which I stood trying to recover myself, almost faintly, from
the fetid odor of that filthy pool, whose white mist
rose ghost like around. Worst of all, with the acute
despair of the hunted animal when he sees the pursuing
pack closing on him. I saw before my eyes, whilst

(09:23):
I stood helpless, the dark forms of my pursuers moving
swiftly to surround me. It's curious how our minds work
on odd matters, even when the energies of thought are
seemingly concentrated on some terrible impressing need. I was in
momentary peril of my life, my safety depending on my
action and my choice of alternatives coming now with almost

(09:45):
every step I took. And yet I could not but
think of the strange, dogged persistency of these old men,
their silent resolution, their steadfast, grim persistency, even in such
a cause commanded as well as fear, even a measure
of respect. What must they have been in the vigor
of their youth. I could understand now that whirlwind rush

(10:07):
on the bridge of Arcola at scornful exclamation of the
old guard at Waterloo. Unconscious celebration had its own pleasures
even at such moments. But fortunately it does not in
any way clash with the thought from which action springs.
I realized at a glance that so far I was
defeated my object, my enemies as yet had won. They

(10:27):
had succeeded in surrounding me on three sides, and were
bent on driving me off to the left hand, where
there was already some danger for me, for they had
left no guard. I accepted the alternative. It was a
case of Hobson's choice and run. I had to keep
the lower ground, for my pursuers were on the higher places. However,
though the ooze and broken ground impeded me, my youth

(10:49):
and training made me able to hold my ground, and
by keeping a diagonal line, I not only kept them
from gaining on me, but even began to distance them.
This gave me new heart and strength, and by this
time habitual training was beginning to tell, and my second
wind had come before me. The ground rose slightly. I
rushed up the slope and found before me a waste
of watery slime, with a low dike or bank looking

(11:11):
black and grim beyond. I felt that if I could
but reach that dike in safety, I could, there, with
solid ground under my feet and some kind of path
to guide me, find with comparative ease away out of
my troubles. After a glance right and left, and seeing
no one near, I kept my eyes for a few
minutes to their rightful work of aiding my feet whilst

(11:31):
I crossed the swamp. It was rough, hard work, but
there was little danger, merely toil, and a short time
took me to the dike. I rushed up the slope, exulting,
but here again I met a new shock. On either
side of me rose a number of crouching figures. From
right and left, they rushed at me. Each body held

(11:52):
a rope. The cordon was nearly complete. I could pass
on either side, and the end was near. There was
only one chance, and I took it. I hurled myself
across the dike, and, escaping out of the very clutches
of my foes, threw myself into the stream. At any
other time I should have thought that water foul and filthy,
But now it was as welcome as the most crystal

(12:13):
clear stream to the parched traveler. It was a highway
of safety. My pursuers rushed after me. Had only one
of them held the rope, it would have been all
up with me, for it could have entangled me before
I had time to swim a stroke. But the many
hands holding it embarrassed and delayed them, And when the
rope struck the water, I heard the splash well behind me.

(12:34):
A few minutes hard swimming took me across the stream.
Refreshed with the immersion and encouraged by the escape, I
climbed the dike in comparative gayety of spirits. From the top,
I looked back through the darkness I saw my assailants
scattering up and down along the dike. The pursuit was
evidently not ended, and again I had to choose my course.
Beyond the dike where I stood was a wild, swampy

(12:56):
space very similar to that which I had crossed. I
determined to shun such a place, and thought for a
moment whether I would take up or down the dike.
I thought I heard a sound, the muffled sound of oars,
so I listened and then shouted no response, but the
sound ceased. My enemies had evidently got a boat of
some kind, as they were on the upside of me.

(13:18):
I took the down path and began to run. As
I passed to the left of where I had entered
the water, I heard several splashes, soft and stealthy, like
the sound of rat makes as he plunges into the stream,
but vastly greater. And as I looked, I saw the
dark sheen of the water broken by the ripples of
several advancing heads. Some of my enemies were swimming the

(13:38):
stream also, and now behind me up the stream, the
silence was broken by the quick rattle and creak of oars.
My enemies were in hot pursuit, I put my best
leg foremost and ran on. After a break of a
couple of minutes, I looked back, and by a gleam
of light through the ragged clouds, I saw several dark
forms climbing the bank behind me. The wind now had

(14:00):
begun to rise, and the water beside me was ruffled
and beginning to break in tiny waves on the bank.
I had to keep my eyes pretty well on the
ground before me lest I should stumble, for I knew
that to stumble was death. After a few minutes, I
looked back behind me. On the dike were only a
few dark figures, but crossing the waste swampy ground were

(14:22):
many more. What new danger this portended I did not know.
Could only guess then. As I ran, it seemed to
me that my track kept ever sloping away to the right.
I looked up ahead and saw that the river was
much wider than before, and that the dike on which
I stood fell quite away, and beyond it was another stream,

(14:42):
on whose near bank I saw some of the dark
forms now across the marsh. I was on an island
of some kind. My situation was now indeed terrible, for
on my enemies had hemmed me in. On every side
behind came the quickening roll of the oars, as though
my pursuers knew that the end was close around me,

(15:02):
on every side was desolation. There was not a roof
or light as far as I could see. Far off
to the right rose some dark mass. But what it
was I knew. Not for a moment I paused to
think what I should do, Not for more, for my
pursuers were drawn closer. Then my mind was made up.
I slipped down the bank and took to the water.
I struck out straight ahead, so as to gain the

(15:24):
current by clearing the backwater of the island. For such
I presume it was. When I had passed into the stream,
I waited till a cloud came, driving across the moon
and leaving all in darkness. Then I took off my
hat and laid it softly on the water, floating with
the stream, And a second after dived to the right
and struck out underwater with all my might. I was
I suppose half a minute under water, and when I rose,

(15:48):
came up as softly as I could, and turning looked back,
there went my light brown hat, floating merrily away close
behind it came a rickety old boat, driven furiously by
a of oars. The moon was still partly obscured by
the drifting clouds, but in the partial light I could
see a man in the bows, holding aloft, ready to

(16:08):
strike what appeared to me to be that same dreadful
poll axe which I had before escaped. As I looked,
the boat drew closer, closer, and the man struck savagely.
The hat disappeared, the man fell forward, almost out of
the boat. His comrades dragged him in, but without the axe.
And then as I turned, with all my energies, bent

(16:30):
on reaching the further bank, I heard the fierce whird
of the muttered sakra, which marked the anger of my
baffled pursuers. That was the first sound I had heard
from human lips staring all this dreadful chase, and full
as it was of menace and danger. To me, it
was a welcome sound, for it broke that awful silence
which shrouded and appalled me. It was as though an

(16:51):
overt sign that my opponents were men and not ghosts,
and that with them I had at least the chance
of a man, though but one against many. But now
that the spell of silence was broken. The sounds came
thick and fast, from boat to shore, and back from
shore to boat came quick, question and answer, all in
the fiercest whispers. I looked back, a vital thing to do,

(17:15):
for in the instant some one caught sight of my face,
which showed white on the dark water, and shouted Hans
pointed to me, and in a moment or two the
boat was under way and following hard after me. I
had but a little way to go, but quicker and
quicker came the boat after me. A few more strokes
and I would be on the shore. But I felt
the oncoming of the boat, and expected every second to

(17:36):
feel the crash of an oar or other weapon on
my head. Had I not seen that dreadful axe disappear
in the water, I do not think I could have
won the shore. I heard the muttered curses of those
not rowing, and the labored breath of the rowers. With
one supreme effort for life or liberty, I touched the
bank and sprang up it. There was not a single
second to spare for hard behind me, the boat grounded

(17:57):
in several dark forms, sprang after me. I gained the
top of the dike, and keeping to the left, ran
on again. The boat put off and followed down the stream.
Seeing this, I feared danger in this direction, and quickly turning,
ran down the dike on the other side, and, after
passing a short stretch of marshy ground, gained a wild, open,
flat country, and sped on. Still behind me came my

(18:20):
relentless pursuers. Far away below me, I saw the same
dark mass as before, but now grown closer and greater.
My heart gave a great thrill of delight, for I
knew it must be the fortress of Besetch, and with
my new courage, I ran on. I had heard that
between each and all the protecting forts of Paris there
are strategic ways, deep sunk roads, where soldiers marching should

(18:44):
be sheltered from an enemy. I knew that if I
could gain this road, I would be safe. But in
the darkness I could not see any sign of it,
so in blind hope of striking it, I ran on Presently.
I came to the edge of a deep cut and
found that down below me ran a road guarded on
each side by a ditch of water, fenced on either
side by a straight high wall, getting fainter and dizzier.

(19:08):
I ran on the ground, got more broken, more and
more still, till I staggered and fell, and rose again,
and ran on in the blind anguish of the hunted. Again.
The thought of Alice nerved me. I would not be
lost and wreck her life. I would fight and struggle
for life to the bitter end. With a great effort,
I caught the top of the wall, as scrambling like

(19:29):
a catamount, I drew myself up. I actually felt a
hand touch the soul of my foot. I was now
in a sort of causeway, and before me I saw
a dim light. Blind and dizzy, I ran on, staggered
and fell, rising covered with dust and blood. Halt Lah.
The words sounded like a voice from heaven. A blaze
of light seemed to unwrap me, and I shouted with joy,

(19:51):
kiev a la, the rattle of musketry, the flash of
steel before my eyes. Instinctively I stopped the close behind me.
Came a rush of my person seers. Another word or
two went out from a gateway, poured as it seemed
to me, a tide of red and blue. As the
guard turned out. All round seemed blazing with light and
the flash of steel, the clink and rattle of arms,

(20:13):
and loud, harsh voices of command. As I fell forward,
utterly exhausted. As soldier caught me, I looked back in
dreadful expectation and saw the mass of dark forms disappearing
into the night. Then I must have finded. When I
recovered my senses, I was in the guard room. They
gave me brandy, and after a while I was able

(20:33):
to tell them something of what had passed. Then a
commissary of police appeared, apparently out of the empty air,
as is the way of the Parisian police officer. He
listened attentively and then had a moment's consultation with the
officer in command. Apparently they were agreed, for they asked
me if I were ready now to come with them?
Where to? I asked, rising, to go back to the

(20:55):
dust heaps. We shall perhaps catch them, yet I shall try,
said I. He eyed me for a moment keenly, and said, suddenly,
would you like to wait awhile or till tomorrow, young Englishman?
This touched me to the quick as perhaps he intended,
and I jumped to my feet. Come now, I said, now,

(21:15):
now an Englishman is always ready for his duty. The
Commissary was a good fellow as well as a shrewd one.
He slapped my shoulder kindly, Brave Garson, he said, forgive me,
but I knew what would do you most good. The
God is ready come. And so, passing right through the
guard room and through a long vaulted passage, we were

(21:36):
out into the night. A few of the men in
front had powerful lanterns. Through courtyards and down a slope
and way we passed out through a low archway to
a sunken road, the same that I had seen in
my flight. The order was given to get at the double,
and with a quick springing stride, half run, half walk,
the soldiers went swiftly along. I felt my strength renewed again.

(21:56):
Such is the difference between hunter and hunted. A very
short distance took us to a low lion pontoon bridge
across the stream, and evidently very little higher up than
I had struck it. Some effort had evidently been made
to damage it, for the ropes had all been cut
and one of the chains had been broken. I heard
an officer say to the Commissary, we all just in time.

(22:17):
A few more minutes and they would have destroyed the bridge.
Forward quicker still, and on we went again. We reached
a pontoon on the winding stream. As we came up,
we heard the hollow boom of the metal drums as
the effort to destroy the bridge was again renewed. A
word of command was given and several men raised their
rifles fire. A volley rang out. There was a muffled cry,

(22:39):
and the dark forms dispersed, but the evil was done,
and we saw the far end of the pontoon swing
into the stream. This was a serious delay, and it
was nearly an hour before we had renewed ropes and
restored the bridge sufficiently to allow us to cross. We
renewed the chase, quicker, quicker. We went towards the dust heaps.
After a time we came to a place I knew

(23:01):
there were the remains of a fire. A few smoldering
wood ashes still cast a red glow, but the bulk
of the ashes were cold. I knew the side of
the hut and the hill behind it, up which I
had rushed, And in the flickering glow, the eyes of
the rats still shone with a sort of phosphorescence. The
commissary spoke a word to the officer, and he cried halt.

(23:22):
The officers were ordered to spread around and watch, and
then we commenced to examine the ruins. The commissary himself
began to lift away the charred boards and rubbish. These
the soldiers took and piled together. Presently he started back,
then bent down and rising beckoned me. See, he said,
it was a gruesome sight. There lay a skeleton, face downwards,

(23:45):
a woman by the lines, an old woman. By the
coarse fiber of the bone. Between the ribs rode a
long spike like dagger made from a butcher's sharpening knife,
its keen point buried in the spine. You will observe,
said they to the officer and to me, as he
took out his notebook. That the woman must have fallen
on hadega. The rats are many here, see the eyes

(24:08):
gristening among that heap of bones. You will also notice,
I shuddered as he placed his hand on the skeleton,
that but little time was lost by them, for the
bones are scarcely cold. There was no other sign of
anyone near, living or dead. And so, deploying again into line,
the soldiers passed on. Presently we came to the hut

(24:30):
might of the old wardrobe we approached in five of
the six compartments, was an old man sleeping, sleeping so
soundly that even the glare of the lanterns did not
wake them. Old and grim and grizzled they looked with
their gaunt, wrinkled, bronzed faces and their white mustaches. The
officer called out harshly and loudly a word of command.

(24:51):
In an instant, each one of them was on his
feet before us and standing at attention. What do you
do here? We sleep? Was the answer? Where are the
other chiffonias, asked the commissary, gone to work? And you
we are on god Piste, laughed the officer grimly, as
he looked at the old men, one after the other

(25:13):
in the face, and added, with cool, deliberate cruelty, asleep
on duty? Is this the manner of the old God?
No wonder? Then, a waterloo boy the gleam of the lantern,
I saw the grim old faces grow deadly pale, and
almost shuddered at the look in the eyes of the
old man. As the laugh of the soldiers echoed the
grim pleasantry of the officer, I felt in that moment

(25:34):
that I was, in some measure avenged. For a moment,
they looked as if they would throw themselves on the taunter,
but years of their life had schooled them, and they
remained still. You are but five, said the commissary. Where
is the sixth? The answer came with a grim chuckle.
He is there, and the speaker pointed to the bottom

(25:55):
of the wardrobe. He died last night. You won't find
much of him. Burial of the rats is quick. The
commissary stooped and looked in. Then he turned to the
officer and said, calmly, we may as well go back.
No trace here now, nothing to prove that the man
was the one wounded by your soldier's bullets. Probably they
murdered him to cover up the trace. See again, he

(26:18):
stooped and placed his hands on the skeleton. The rats
work quickly, and there are many. These bones are warm.
I shuddered, and so did many more of those around me.
From said the officer. And so in march in order,
with the lanterns swinging in front, and the manacled veterans
in the midst with steady tramp, we took ourselves out
of the dust heaps and turned backward to the fortress

(26:41):
of Beset. My year of probation has long since ended,
and Alice is my wife. But when I look back
upon that try in twelvemonth, one of the most vivid
incidents that memory recalls is that associated with my visit
to the city of Dust. End of the Burial of
the Rats, Part two recording by Haley, Flag of Texas,