The accusing voice by me.., p.1
The Accusing Voice by Meredith Davis, page 1
Weird Tales, March, 1923
The Accusing Voice
by Meredith Davis
E, THE JURY, find the beyond the shaft of light from the window. A defendant, Richard Bland, fly now and then craved the spotlight for a
“W guilty of murder in the first moment and lazily floated from the growing degree, in manner and form as charged.
dusk of the room to the avenue of ebbing day, Allen Defoe, foreman of the twelve
streaming in from the west. And always there men, listened with impassive face as the judge was a constant turmoil of dust particles,
read away the life of the prisoner in the visible only when they moved into the bright dock—the man whose death warrant Defoe
relief of the sun-shaft.
had signed only a few minutes before. As the The handful of spectators stirred
judge finished, Defoe glanced warily toward
restlessly while the judge was making his
the prisoner. Somehow, he preferred to avoid preparations. The droning noises of
catching his eye.
approaching summer evening in a rural
Bland, a slight, rather uninteresting county-seat were smothered by the buzz of ill-type of man, stood with bowed head; Defoe
hushed voices. Perhaps that was why the
now turned his gaze full upon him.
judge, in the midst of adjusting his headgear,
“Has the prisoner anything to say why
rapped sharply thrice with his gavel—or, it
judgment should not be pronounced?”
may have been only his excess of
The judge’s voice, coming after the
nervousness.
ebon pause, sent a strange dull into the heart Defoe thought the judge never would
of Allen Defoe, juror. He hoped the prisoner’s stop fumbling with his cap. And finally the
counsel would make the customary motions
judge lost track of the jury’s verdict and had to for a new trial or for time in which to file an mess through the scattered papers before him appeal. He did neither: evidently Bland until he found it. He didn’t really require it to believed the verdict inescapable—or else he
pronounce sentence of death upon the man in
was out of funds.
the dock. Hunting it, though, delayed the
Now the judge arose in his place, inevitable a few seconds; and Defoe donning with nervous gesture the black cap
wondered, since he himself was near to
that accompanies the most tragic moment in
screaming out with impatience, how the
the performance of a court’s duties. The judge prisoner could stand it without going suddenly seemed ill at ease in the cap. It was the first mad.
time he had worn it. The grotesque thought
“For God’s sake, read the death
flitted through Defoe’s mind that perhaps the sentence!” exclaimed Defoe under his breath, judge had borrowed the cap from one of his
but loud enough to arouse a nod of approval
fellow jurists for the occasion.
from the two juror nearest him.
The almost level rays of the western
A moment later the judge found his
sun diffused a somber, aureate glow athwart
voice:
the judge’s bench, so that the dark figure of
‘The prisoner will face the court.”
the standing man was in mystic indistinctness Slowly, deliberately, the prisoner
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2
stepped forward in the dock, leaning slightly DEFOE awoke with a shudder.
against the railing and letting one hand rest There was a moment or two, as is
upon it. He looked squarely at the judge now, always the case when one arouses from heavy, although he barely could distinguish his dream-burdened slumber, during which Defoe features in the dimness.
could not tell where his dream ended and
Again the judge spoke, and this time
realities began. He blinked experimentally
his voice was hurried and strained:
into the smouldering fire in the open grate
“The sentence of the court is that the
before him; yes, he was conscious. For further prisoner be taken, between the hours of seven verification of this he drew forth his watch a, m. and six p. m. on Tuesday, in the week
and noted the hour. The glow from the fire
beginning October 22 next, from the place of was scarcely sufficient for reading the dial and confinement to the place of execution, and
Defoe leaned forward the better to see. He was there be handed by the neck until he is dead—
still too drowsy even to reach around and turn dead— dead! ... And may God, in His infinite on the electric lamp on the table behind him.
wisdom, have mercy on your soul!”
Still he was not certain whether he was
The judge sank back heavily into the
yet dreaming, until—
safety of his chair. His hand swept up to brush
“Don’t budge, Defoe! I’ve got you
his forehead and with the same motion it covered!”
whisked off the detestable little black cap.
The Voice was close to his left ear. Its
The prisoner remained staring at the
commanding acerbity quelled Defoe’s impulse
judge as one who is puzzled at a strange sight.
to spring to his feet; and as he gripped the Perhaps he would have stood there untold
arms of the chair tensely he managed to
minutes if a woman’s hysterical laugh, half-
challenge his unseen intruder:
choked by a sudden upraised hand, had not
“Who are you? What do you want
broken the tension of the entire room. A bailiff here?”
tiptoed to the woman, and, as if revived to
The Voice moved a little upward and
duty by the same cause, a prison guard strode back before it answered:
forward to lead the condemned man away.
“You’ve just had a nasty dream,
Defoe could have reached out and Defoe. Perhaps I—”
touched Bland as he passed the jury on his
“How do you know I did!” interrupted
way to the cell across the street But Defoe had Defoe.
no desire even to look at Bland: indeed, he did
“You did, though, didn’t you?” the
not, until Bland’s back was passing out of
Voice insisted.
sight through the door on the other side of the
“Yes, but how did you know?”
jury box. Mechanically, then, Defoe filed out repeated Defoe.
with the other jurors as the judge announced
“Never mind how,” said the Voice.
adjournment.
“I’ll wager you’ve had the same dream pretty And the black cap lay forgotten on the
often in the last dozen years, too. It must be rim of the judge’s wastebasket, where the hell to have a scene like that forever before janitor found it that evening and crossed you mind, so that you’re always in dread of himself fervently as he timidly salvaged it
dreaming about it—”
from ignoble oblivion.
“What scene?” demanded Defoe. “Are
you a mind reader—a wizard—what are you?”
II.
The Voice chuckled. “None of those,”
it said. “As I was saying, you must be afraid,
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3
almost, to go to bed at night. 1 would be, it I again, Mr. Defoe, reminds me of a question I thought I might dream of sending an innocent often wished to ask you: Did you see Bland at man to the gallows——”
all after his conviction?”
“Stop!” Defoe fairly shouted. “Damn it
“No, of course—” Defoe’s guard had
all, come around here where I can see you!”
been down. He was fairly tricked, so he tried and he made on instinctive move to turn about to run to cover again. “What—who is this
and confront his tormentor.
Bland you’re talking about?”
The firm pressure of an automatic
“Come, come, Mr. Defoe,” said the
barrel against his temple halted him.
Voice. “Think over your dream a moment.
“Don’t make the mistake of turning
Surely you remember the man in the
around!” again warned the Voice incisively.
prisoner’s dock—the man who took his
Then, in a lighter tone, it went on: “If I
sentence with head up, facing the judge like a were in your place, Mr. Defoe, do you know
Spartan! Surely you remember Richard Bland.
what I’d do?”
But did you happen to see him again after that A pause. Defoe mumbled e faint “No.”
day?”
“Well, I either would confess my
“No,” Defoe said. “Why should I have
whole knowledge of the affair—or—I’d seen him after my connection with his case commit suicide!”
ended?”
Defoe started. It was uncanny, eerie,
“But didn’t y
the way this mysterious Voice put into words expressing your regret at having had to
the one gnawing thought that had plagued him perform the duty of—”
the last dozen years of his life.
“Certainly not!” interrupted Defoe
“Of course, you probably have “Who ever heard of a foreman of a jury doing contemplated those alternatives very often,”
such a thing? Besides, he deserved his
the Voice continued. “But have you ever punishment”
considered doing both? That is, did you ever The Voice was silent a moment or two
think that you might confess first, thereby
before it replied:
clearing an innocent man’s name of murder,
“We’ll discuss the merits of the case
and then cheat the law yourself by committing later ... And you didn’t even go to see him
sui——”
hanged?”
“For God’s sake, stop that infernal
“What manner of man do you think I
suicide talk!” Defoe snapped. “In the first
am?” exclaimed Defoe. “Of course I didn’t! I place. I don’t know what ‘affair’ or what
wasn’t even in Chicago when he was hanged”
‘innocent man’ you’re talking about.”
“No?” said the Voice. “Where were
The Voice chuckled again. Defoe was
you?”
beginning to hate that chuckle more than the
“A few weeks after the trial I had to go
feel of the automatic against his head. If the to Europe on a long business trip. I was gone a Voice kept on chuckling it might urge him to year or so. When I returned to this country I determination to grapple with his armed made my home here in Mew York City.”
inquisitor, even though he would court certain
“So you never even read in the
death in doing it.
newspapers about Bland—” the Voice
“Why, there’s no need to explain the
persisted. “I don’t suppose the European
obvious,” the Voice replied, its chuckle papers would bother with American news like rippling through the words. “Your dream that, though.”
ought to tell you that. Speaking of your dream
“No. I never read anything about the
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4
case after I left this country,” said Defoe.
Defoe insisted.
“That’s odd. I’d have thought you “No,
senor. I only hear you say he
would have followed the case through to the
wish you to smoke another cigar,” explained
end,” the Voice said, half-musingly. “But still, the valet.
if you had, perhaps you would not be here
“Well, you ought to have your ears
tonight.”
examined. Manuel. Get my box from the table
“Why not? What difference would it
and hand it to my visitor.”
have made?”
Manuel fumbled in the darkness until
“I don’t know. That’s merely my he found the box, then handed it to Defoe. The surmise,” said the Voice.
latter waved it toward the Voice behind him.
A faint footstep padded through the
“My guest first, Manuel.” he corrected.
hall outside the living-room.
The Cuban stood motionless. “I see no
“Is that you, Manuel?” Defoe asked,
one else.” he insisted. The Voice interrupted: wondering what would happen when his “Tell him I don’t care to smoke, Mr. Defoe.”
Cuban valet encountered the intruder behind
“I can see no one, senor, ” the Cuban the choir.
repeated.
The footstep halted.
“But didn’t you just hear him?” Defoe
“Si, senor,” answered the man-servant, cried, leaning forward nervously.
at a respectful distance from his master’s “No, senor, I hear no one speak but
chair. “I come to see why you sit up so late, you.”
senor.”
Defoe stared up at his valet, then half
Defoe laughed mirthlessly. “Well, rose from his chair.
truth to tell, Manuel, I am detained on
“Sit down, Defoe!” commanded the
business,” and he wondered again how Voice sharply.
Manuel had escaped noticing the other
Defoe sank back once more. “There!”
presence in the room.
he exclaimed to his valet “Now tell me you
“You mean you fell asleep, senor? ”
didn’t hear any one order me to sit down just asked the valet.
then!”
“I did, but some friendly caller has
The Cuban shook his head. “No, senor,
kept me pretty well awake the last ten I hear no one talk but you since I come in.”
minutes.”
His master swore helplessly. “Are you
“But he has gone? And you come to
trying to make a fool of me, Manuel? Do you
bed now?” inquired the Cuban.
dare stand there and tell me no one spoke to Defoe, after a pause, said. “Yes; I me?”
might as well go to bed, I guess.”
“I don’t know, senor. I only know I The Voice behind the chair broke in:
hear no one speak—” Again the Voice
“Tell your valet you will smoke intruded: “It may be that Manuel thinks you another cigar before you retire.”
are trying to make a fool of him,” it suggested.
Defoe settled down again in the chair.
“Do you?” Defoe asked the Cuban.
“You heard, Manuel?” he asked “You
“Do I what, senor? ” the valet asked, see, my visitor says he wishes me to smoke
placidly.
another cigar.”
“Do you think I’m trying to make a
“But I see no visitor, senor,” said the fool of you?”
Cuban.
“I do not say so, do I, senor? ” the
“You heard what he said, though,” servant replied, deprecatingly.
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5
“No, but you heard—or did you physician said, almost before he had sat down hear?—this visitor say it!”
with his patient. “You look mentally
The Cuban, almost tearfully, denied it,
distressed.”
becoming verbose in his protestation.
“I am,” admitted Defoe. “Working too
Defoe flapped his arms on the wings of
hard. I guess.”
his easy chair and bade his valet hush.
The doctor eyed him keenly.
“Get out of here, you brown-skinned
“Anything else troubling yon?” he
dumbbell! One of us has gone crazy tonight!”
asked.
The Cuban moved off, keeping a
Defoe insisted there really was nothing
suspicious eye upon his master. His retreating at all beside his work that was affecting him.
footstep presently was heard dying away in
So the doctor gave the usual diagnosis: Too
the hall outside.
much nerve tension, not enough sleep, not the
“Well, what do you think of that proper kinds of food. He ended by advising damned little Cuban?” Defoe asked the Voice.
