Scattered here and there,
more massive blocks showed where some pompous
tomb or ambitious monument had once flung its
feeble defiance at oblivion. So old seemed these
relics, these vestiges of vanity and memorials of
affection and piety, so battered and worn and stained
--so neglected, deserted, forgotten the place, that I
could not help thinking myself the discoverer of the
burial-ground of a prehistoric race of men whose very
name was long extinct.
Filled with these reflections, I was for some time
heedless of the sequence of my own experiences, but
soon I thought, 'How came I hither?' A moment's
reflection seemed to make this all clear and explain
at the same time, though in a disquieting way, the
singular character with which my fancy had invested
all that I saw or heard. I was ill. I remembered now
that I had been prostrated by a sudden fever,
and that my family had told me that in my pe-
riods of delirium I had constantly cried out for lib-
erty and air, and had been held in bed to prevent
my escape out-of-doors. Now I had eluded the vigi-
lance of my attendants and had wandered hither
to--to where? I could not conjecture. Clearly I
was at a considerable distance from the city
where I dwelt--the ancient and famous city of
Carcosa.
No signs of human life were anywhere visible
nor audible; no rising smoke, no watch-dog's bark,
no lowing of cattle, no shouts of children at play--
nothing but that dismal burial-place, with its air
of mystery and dread, due to my own disordered
brain.
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