“In forty-six Cap’n Obed took a second wife that nobody in thee taown never see – – some says he didn’t want to, but was made to by them as he’d called in – – had three children by her – – two as disappeared young, but one gal as looked like anybody else an’ was eddicated in Europe. Obed finally got her married off by a trick to an Ackham feller as didn’t sus-pect nothin’. But nobody aoutside’ll hav nothin’ to do with Innsmouth folks ‘now. Barnabas Marsh that runs the re-fin’ry now is Obed’s grandson by hist first wife – – son of OnesIphorus, his eldest eon, but his mother was another o’ them as wa’n’t never seen aoutdoors.
“Right naow Barnabas is abaout changed. Can’t shet his eyes no more, an’ is all aout o’ shape. They say he still wears clothes, but he’ll take to the water soon. Mebbe he’s tried it already – – they do sometimes go daown for little spells afore they go daown for good. Ain’t ben seed abaout in public fer night on ten year’. Dun’t know haow his poor wife kin feel – – she come from Ipiwich, an’ they nigh lynched Barnabas when he courted her fifty odd year’ ago. Obed he died in ‘seventy-eight an’ all the next gen’ratioon is gone naow – – the fust wife’s children dead, and the rest . . . God knows . . .”
The sound of the incoming tide was flow very insistent, and little by little it seemed to change the old man’s mood from maudlin tearfulness to watchful fear. He would pause now and then to renew those nervous glances over his shoul-der or out toward the reef, and despite the wild absurdity of his tale, I could not help beginning to share his apprehensiveness. Zadok now grew shriller, seemed to be trying to whip up his courage with louder speech.
“Hey, yew, why dun’t ye say somethin’? Haow’d ye like to he livin’ in a taown like this, with everything a-rottin’ an’ dyin’, an’ boarded-up monsters crawlin’ an’ bleatin’ an’ barkin’ an’ hoppin’ araoun’ black cellars an’ attics every way ye turn? Hey? Haow’d ye like to hear the haowlin’ night arter night from the churches an’ Order 0′ Dagon Hall, an’ know what’s doin’ part o’ the haowlin’? Haow’d ye like to hear what comes from that awful reef every May-Eve an’ Hallowmass? Hey? Think the old man’s crazy, eh? Wal, Sir, let me tell ye that ain’t the wust!”
Zadok was really screaming now, and the mad frenzy of his voice disturbed me more than I care to own.
“Curse ye, dun’t set thar a’starin’ at me with them eyes – – -I tell Obed Marsh he’s in hell, an, hez got to stay thar! Heh, heh . . . in hell, I says! Can’t git me – – I hain’t done nothin’ nor told nobody nothin’ – –
-“Oh, you, young feller? Wal, even ef I hain’t told nobody nothin’ yet, I’m a’goin’ to naow! Yew jest set still an’ listen to me, boy – – this is what I ain’t never told nobody. . . I says I didn’t get to do pryin’ arter that night – – but I faound things about jest the same!”
“Yew want to know what the reel horror is, hey? Wal, it’s this – – it ain’t what them fish devils hez done, but what they’re a-goin’ to do! They’re a-bringin’ things up aout o’ whar they come from into the taown – – been doin’ it fer years, an’ slackenin’ up lately. Them haouses north o’ the river be-twixt Water an’ Main Streets is full of ’em – – them devils an’ what they brung – – an’ when they git ready . . . I say, when they git ……. ever hear tell of a shoggoth?
‘Hey, d’ye hear me? I tell ye I know what them things be -I seen ’em one mght when . . . eh-ahhh-ah! e’yahhh . . . ”
The hideous suddenness and inhuman frightfulness of the old man’s shriek almost made me faint. His eyes, looking past me toward the malodorous sea, were positively starting from his head; while his face was a mask of fear worthy of Greek tragedy. His bony claw dug monstrously into my shoulder, and he made no motion as I turned my head to look at whatever he had glimpsed.