The perfume
of ROSES became perceptible; and for some occult reason, its fragrance
DISGUSTED.
It was as though a faint draught from the opened shutter poured into the
apartment an impalpable cloud of evil; the very soul of the Eurasian,
had it taken vapory form and enveloped him, could not have created a
greater turmoil of his senses than this!
Some sinister and definitely malignant intelligence was focussed upon
him; or was this a chimera of his imagination? Could it be that now he
was become en rapport with the thought-forms created in that chamber by
its successive occupants?
Scores, perhaps hundreds of brains had there partaken of the unholy
sacrament of opium; thousands, millions of evil carnivals had trailed in
impish procession about that bed. He knew enough of the creative power
of thought to be aware that a sensitive mind coming into contact with
such an atmosphere could not fail to respond in some degree to the
suggestions, to the elemental hypnosis, of the place.
Was he, owing to his self-induced receptivity of mind, redreaming the
evil dreams of those who had occupied that bed before him?
It might be so, but, whatever the explanation, he found himself unable
to shake off that uncanny sensation of being watched, studied, by a
powerful and inimical intelligence.
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