Speaker 1: Had a hard day at the office, backache from bending
Speaker 1: over a hot stove all day. Want to get away
Speaker 1: from it all.
Speaker 2: We offer you escape.
Speaker 1: It is midnight and you are alone. Suddenly the room
Speaker 1: is plunged into darkness. You sit frozen with terror because
Speaker 1: something is there behind you, something you feared would come,
Speaker 1: something from which you must escape.
Speaker 3: Escape, produced and directed by William N. Robson, and carefully
Speaker 3: plotted to free you from the four walls of today
Speaker 3: for a half hour of high adventure.
Speaker 1: To night we escaped to London and a world made
Speaker 1: strange and terrifying by the workings of an ancient barbary curse,
Speaker 1: as Montague R. James tells it in his weird story
Speaker 1: Casting the Ruins.
Speaker 4: My name is Edward Dudding. I'm a scientist. I'm used
Speaker 4: to dealing with facts, not fairy tales. I'm regarded as
Speaker 4: Britain's leading authority on medieval life, and as such I've
Speaker 4: studied much of the ancient fears and barbaric superstitions of
Speaker 4: those times. I should have been the first to scoff
Speaker 4: at any suggestion of the ancient powers of evil. The
Speaker 4: black magic of Teutonic days could be believed and practiced in.
Speaker 2: The twentieth century.
Speaker 4: A few weeks ago, I should have laughed had you
Speaker 4: told me that a curse a hex could kill a man.
Speaker 4: Today I cannot laugh. It has happened to a man
Speaker 4: I know of, and now it's happening to me.
Speaker 2: Oh.
Speaker 4: My first presentment of danger came on that day a
Speaker 4: few weeks ago, when I dropped in to see Alfred's smile,
Speaker 4: secretary of the National Science Association, and found him in
Speaker 4: a state of irritation, lasted all darning.
Speaker 5: I almost wish you hadn't been so brutally honest in
Speaker 5: your report on that Carswell paper.
Speaker 2: Why what's the trouble? He's such a frightful fellow. He's
Speaker 2: raising a terrible row. You mean Carswell himself.
Speaker 5: Yes, it's bad enough of vicious charlatan like that calling
Speaker 5: himself a scientist. But now he's taking all his vindictiveness
Speaker 5: out on me.
Speaker 2: Sorry, old Jap, really me, he'd liked to get at.
Speaker 5: As a matter of fact, that's just what his last
Speaker 5: letter was about. He wants to know what supposed authority
Speaker 5: wrote the report rejecting his paper.
Speaker 2: You didn't give him my name, Hiddens.
Speaker 5: No, As a matter of fact, donning. I haven't and
Speaker 5: I won't, and for a very special reason. Call it silly,
Speaker 5: call it crazy, call it what you will. I have
Speaker 5: an uncanny feeling about that man Castle. And why do
Speaker 5: you know anything about him?
Speaker 2: Nothing. I've never seen him. I only know that he
Speaker 2: wrote a paper called The Truth of Alchemy. It was hopeless, precisely,
Speaker 2: and why was it hopeless?
Speaker 4: Well, besides being abominably written, was supposed to prove that alchemy,
Speaker 4: black magic and such rat actually exists.
Speaker 2: I think the man really believes it.
Speaker 5: Undoubtedly he does, And that's what I mean. He lives
Speaker 5: in an isolated old house in Warwickshire. He's rarely seen elsewhere,
Speaker 5: and in his whole career he's written only two things,
Speaker 5: this paper and The History of Witchcraft, published ten years ago.
Speaker 2: Of course I remember now. So that's the.
Speaker 5: Man, yes, and that was even worse than this paper.
Speaker 5: The man has a warped mind. I'm sure he's tried
Speaker 5: every unhealthy experiment in alchemy, witchcraft and black magic. There's
Speaker 5: no telling to what lengths of vindictiveness a man like
Speaker 5: that might go.
Speaker 4: Well, does sound a bit queer, it's not queer, dunning evil.
Speaker 4: Come man has a right to believe what he likes.
Speaker 4: He is right to be angry with me here I've
Speaker 4: blibly scoffed at the man's life's work.
Speaker 5: Well, perhaps I'm being overly suspicious and imaginative, but I
Speaker 5: think there's.
Speaker 2: More than anger involved here, Edward.
Speaker 5: This may sound fantastic to you, but well, John Harrington
Speaker 5: wrote the report condemning that witchcraft book of Caswell's ten
Speaker 5: years ago. Three months later Harrington was dead. But Alfred,
Speaker 5: what's the connection? Harrington died under very peculiar circumstances. He
Speaker 5: was walking home alone late one night, and suddenly he screamed,
Speaker 5: broke into a run, lost his hat and stick, and
Speaker 5: climbed up a tree. A dead branch gave way, he
Speaker 5: fell and broke his neck. No one's ever been able
Speaker 5: to explain.
Speaker 2: Why heaven come now out with Jolie. Are not suggesting.
Speaker 2: I don't know what I'm suggesting.
Speaker 5: I only know that after he reviewed Caswell's book, John
Speaker 5: Harrington didn't have a moment's piece. Now you've written an
Speaker 5: unfavorable review of this paper. If I were you, I
Speaker 5: should keep that fact well hidden or help it.
Speaker 4: Well, that's ridiculous. Yes, I laughed at Altwred Smile's fears.
Speaker 2: How could I have known then that I.
Speaker 4: As to feel the same terror, the same agonized fear
Speaker 4: which gripped the heart of John Harrington as he crouched,
Speaker 4: panting on the branch of a tree for another moment or.
Speaker 2: Two of life.
Speaker 4: While beneath him the thing came closer and closer. I'd
Speaker 4: almost forgotten the incident when a few nights later I
Speaker 4: was riding home on a late train. I was half
Speaker 4: drowsing in my seat, barely keeping awake by looking idly
Speaker 4: at the car card at worstness. Men directly opposite me
Speaker 4: must have been doing the same, because suddenly I had been.
Speaker 2: Saying, Hey, what can that want be advertising?
Speaker 4: I followed his eyes to the window beside my head.
Speaker 4: What I saw brought me bolt upright in my seat.
Speaker 6: In memory of John Edrington Dodd September eighteenth, nineteen thirty seven,
Speaker 6: by falling from a tree. Three months were allowed. Come,
Speaker 6: won't you say that means her?
Speaker 4: I don't know, but I did know Smife had been right.
Speaker 4: The affair with carswell was not over, but only begun.
Speaker 4: I asked the conductor about the card, but he was
Speaker 4: as possitive as I was. He had never seen it before.
Speaker 4: The card must have been put there expressly for me.
Speaker 4: That meant that carswell knew it was I who would
Speaker 4: reviewed his paper. How have you found out? I got
Speaker 4: the answer the next day. I was in the select
Speaker 4: manuscript department of the British Museum, doing some research in
Speaker 4: the quiet, almost deserted room.
Speaker 2: I had been working steadily for an hour.
Speaker 4: And oblivious to my surroundings, when suddenly, adjusted at my shoulder,
Speaker 4: I heard.
Speaker 5: A voice Edward donning you were allowed three months.
Speaker 2: I swung around my seat. There was no one within
Speaker 2: twenty feet of me.
Speaker 4: I sat for a moment, shaken, and then I stooped
Speaker 4: to pick up the papers I had brushed to the floor.
Speaker 4: I straightened up to find a stout, elderly gentleman standing
Speaker 4: in front of me.
Speaker 2: Excuse me, sir, Yes, may I give you this paper?
Speaker 2: I think it should be yours? Well, yes, so it is.
Speaker 2: I thought I had the more. This one seemed to
Speaker 2: have slide across the floor. Thank you very much, not
Speaker 2: at all, sir, Good afternoon. He walked slowly away and
Speaker 2: out of the door.
Speaker 4: A kindly, stout old gentleman, but there was something about
Speaker 4: him that made me feel strange.
Speaker 2: I went over to the attendant.
Speaker 4: Yes, mister Dunning, did you notice that gentleman I was
Speaker 4: just speaking to Oh, yes, of course, but can you
Speaker 4: tell me his name?
Speaker 1: Why?
Speaker 5: That's mister Carswell. As a matter of fact, he was asking.
Speaker 2: About you only the other day, asking about me.
Speaker 5: Well, he asked who were the great authorities on medieval science?
Speaker 5: Of course I told him you were the only one
Speaker 5: in the country. Ah, I see, would you like to
Speaker 5: meet him, mister Dunning, I'll see if I sell?
Speaker 2: No, thank you.
Speaker 4: Well it was as simple assay. Now Carswell knew what
Speaker 4: would be his next move. What was I to expect?
Speaker 4: I read tom at dusk and trouble stood on my
Speaker 4: doorstep in the long face and stooped form of my family.
Speaker 2: Doctor had to have.
Speaker 5: Set your household arrangements. I'm sorry to say, Dunning. I've
Speaker 5: had to send both your servants to hospital. But what happened?
Speaker 5: Something like to main prisoning. I should think it's nothing serious.
Speaker 2: Well, what could have caused it?
Speaker 5: Well, that's the rather odd thing. They tell me. They
Speaker 5: bought some shellfish from a hawker and headed for lunch.
Speaker 5: I've made inquiries, but I can't find that a hawker
Speaker 5: called it any other house on this street.
Speaker 2: Was this the next move? If so, it had succeeded.
Speaker 4: I was alone in the house, and my nervousness increased
Speaker 4: as darkness closed in and the hours advanced toward midnight.
Speaker 4: I went to bed, but almost immediately I thought I
Speaker 4: heard something my study door opening downstairs. I went out
Speaker 4: and leaned over the banister. There was nothing moving, nothing visible.
Speaker 4: There was only a sudden, surprising gust of warm air.
Speaker 2: Playing about my legs.
Speaker 4: I went back into my room and locked the door.
Speaker 4: Suddenly the lights went out. No doubt it was only
Speaker 4: a blown fuse, but the chills were playing up and
Speaker 4: down my spine. I went over to the bed and
Speaker 4: reached for my watch under the pillow. I suppose I
Speaker 4: want to find out the time. I don't know why,
Speaker 4: But fumbling on the pillow, my hand touched something far
Speaker 4: different from a watch. It was like a mouth with
Speaker 4: sharp teeth and hair around it. Not human at all.
Speaker 4: I fled from my bedroom and spent a long and
Speaker 4: miserable night locked in the spare room, my ear to
Speaker 4: the door, but nothing came. I was not disturbed to
Speaker 4: gain In the morning, I searched the house and found
Speaker 4: nothing unusual, but the mark of fear must have been
Speaker 4: stamped on my face.
Speaker 2: Smife noticed it next day.
Speaker 5: Because if you hadn't slept for weeks, is anything wrong?
Speaker 4: I don't know, Alfred, I, yes, there is Carswell knows
Speaker 4: how they told him at the museum.
Speaker 5: Of course we should have thought of that. Has anything
Speaker 5: happened yet?
Speaker 2: I don't know.
Speaker 4: It's too fantastic. It's probably my mind hypnotic suggestion of something.
Speaker 4: But like that man Harrington, I have three months left.
Speaker 4: Edward must have been hearing things.
Speaker 2: I'm all on age. I don't know what to think.
Speaker 5: John Harrington had a brother, Henry. Perhaps I'd better get
Speaker 5: you in touch with him. He might know more about
Speaker 5: this man Cars.
Speaker 2: Yes, yes, do it and quickly. Three months there's not
Speaker 2: a lot of time. It was arranged.
Speaker 4: That night I found myself walking down the dark street
Speaker 4: that led from the railway station to the Harrington home.
Speaker 4: It must have been along the same street that John
Speaker 4: Herrington had walked that last night where.
Speaker 2: He had broke and run.
Speaker 4: It must have been one of these trees bordering the
Speaker 4: lonely road in which he had spent his last horrible moments.
Speaker 4: The way was dark, and there was no living soul
Speaker 4: in sight, and suddenly.
Speaker 2: Complete terror gripped me.
Speaker 4: Somehow, I knew that I was being followed. At first
Speaker 4: I only felt it, and then I heard it. I
Speaker 4: walked steadily on for a moment, my stomach like ice.
Speaker 4: It was getting louder, coming closer. Unconsciously, my step quickened.
Speaker 4: I could fairly control myself. I wanted to scream and run.
Speaker 2: The thing came.
Speaker 4: Closer, closer. Yes, I broke and ran, ran madly for
Speaker 4: my life. I was at a little side street I
Speaker 4: turned down at doubling back to the railway station. I
Speaker 4: thought I would never make it, But finally, bright lights
Speaker 4: loomed before my eyes, and I think that I never have.
Speaker 2: Been so grateful for human companionship.
Speaker 1: There's no need to run, Sir the I thought he
Speaker 1: won't be along for another five minutes.
Speaker 2: I felt very foolish.
Speaker 4: I couldn't bring myself to walk back down that street
Speaker 4: to Harrington's. I could only take the train home furtively
Speaker 4: and call Harrington next morning to beg his forgiveness. He
Speaker 4: seemed very understanding and asked no questions, and doubted his
Speaker 4: smile had told him something about me. At any rate,
Speaker 4: he agreed to visit me at a place two nights later,
Speaker 4: and when he arrived and was made welcome, he began
Speaker 4: to talk about his brother.
Speaker 5: Yes, mister Dunning, John was in a very bad state
Speaker 5: for weeks before the accident. If that's what it was.
Speaker 5: The principal thing seemed to be the notions he was
Speaker 5: being followed became an obsession.
Speaker 2: Yes, I know, I don't think his death was an accident.
Speaker 5: Then perhaps you can explain it.
Speaker 2: No, but I have one clue.
Speaker 4: Your brother reviewed a book very severely not long before
Speaker 4: he died. Just lately, I happened to cross the path
Speaker 4: of the man who.
Speaker 2: Wrote that book.
Speaker 5: And his name, of course is Carswell. That's right, for
Speaker 5: as far as I'm concerned.
Speaker 2: That does it.
Speaker 5: Before he died, John was beginning to feel, much against
Speaker 5: his will, that Carswell was at the bottom of his trouble.
Speaker 5: Why well, it doesn't make sense, None of this does.
Speaker 2: But tell me.
Speaker 5: My brother liked music. He went to all the concerts
Speaker 5: in town, and he made a hobby of collecting the programs.
Speaker 5: One night, about three months before his death, he brought
Speaker 5: one home and showed it to me. I nearly missed
Speaker 5: this one, he said, it seems he'd lost his and
Speaker 5: was hunting for it under his seat, and a neighbor,
Speaker 5: a rather stout, elderly gentleman, off to give John his.
Speaker 2: The kind gentleman was mister Caswell.
Speaker 5: I started to lead through the program and noticed on
Speaker 5: the second page some rather curious letters, carefully written there
Speaker 5: and black and red ink. Mother of us couldnake much
Speaker 5: of it, except that the letters seemed to be runic ruins.
Speaker 2: Ruins. Of course, for John thought it might.
Speaker 5: Be important, and debated whether he shouldn't try to return
Speaker 5: the program to the stout gentleman. But just then the
Speaker 5: door blew open, and a gust of air, of strangely
Speaker 5: warm air, blew into the room in a fresh It
Speaker 5: took the proge and blew it straight into the fire.
Speaker 2: Yes, your brother was right, he should have returned it.
Speaker 5: There was nothing to be done then, perhaps none.
Speaker 2: But do you know what runic letters mean.
Speaker 5: Well, their old pre Druid script. I believe the kind
Speaker 5: of writing the Barbaric tribes used long before the Romans
Speaker 5: invaded britainly says.
Speaker 4: Right, casting the ruins. They used to call it in
Speaker 4: the old days, casting the ruins?
Speaker 5: What do you mean?
Speaker 4: But it was a curse a hex In primitive England,
Speaker 4: people thought by casting the runes, that is, handing a
Speaker 4: person a piece of paper with certain runic letters on it,
Speaker 4: that he could put that person out of the way,
Speaker 4: destroy him.
Speaker 2: It's an old superstition.
Speaker 4: The only way to lift the curse was to return
Speaker 4: the paper to the one who gave it to you,
Speaker 4: to give it back without.
Speaker 2: His knowing it. I don't believe that kind of nonsense,
Speaker 2: neither do I.
Speaker 5: Then, what was it to kill John?
Speaker 2: I don't know.
Speaker 4: Perhaps his fear of the runs, perhaps brooding about it,
Speaker 4: becoming neurotic, thinking he saw things and heard things, and
Speaker 4: touched things that weren't there.
Speaker 2: Perhaps his own mind drove him to death. And what's
Speaker 2: the difference on your dead? No difference at all? Casting
Speaker 2: the ruins what rubbish, yes, of course, But good heavens,
Speaker 2: what is it? I just remembered that day at the
Speaker 2: British Museum he cast the runs on me.
Speaker 6: Well, why.
Speaker 2: I went swiftly to the writing table Harrington close behind me.
Speaker 4: My portfolio was there, full of the scribbled notes I
Speaker 4: had been working on that day in the museum. And
Speaker 4: as I took it from my shaking hands and began
Speaker 4: leaping desperately through them. One strip of thin white paper
Speaker 4: slipped and fluttered toward the open window with uncanny quickness.
Speaker 4: But Harrington was even quicker and slammed the window.
Speaker 2: Shut just in time. Got it well, Thank heaven.
Speaker 5: If it were lost, are destroyed like your brothers, then
Speaker 5: you wouldn't be able to return it to mister Carswer. Yes,
Speaker 5: look at it. It's identical with the one jart gout.
Speaker 2: I looked at the climsy paper.
Speaker 4: The characters carefully traced in red and black were runs,
Speaker 4: all right, that ancient language used for the Aborigines of
Speaker 4: prehistoric Britain.
Speaker 2: I couldn't decipher them.
Speaker 4: But as Harrington and I stood looking into each other's eyes,
Speaker 4: each of us could read the other's thoughts. Science or not,
Speaker 4: twentieth century or not. This sheet of foolscap spells death
Speaker 4: for its possessor.
Speaker 2: It spells death for yours. Be returned.
Speaker 4: Yes, I know, let's go back in such a way
Speaker 4: that it doesn't. But he doesn't know he's received it.
Speaker 4: That means we constantly mail it.
Speaker 5: No, we can't.
Speaker 2: We must do it personally. That'll take doing.
Speaker 5: He knows you by sight doesn't take this. You must
Speaker 5: shave your beard, re'll alter your appearance. He might strike
Speaker 5: any time.
Speaker 2: I had three months as with the warning said, we've got.
Speaker 5: To make good on miss Dunning. I have searched ten
Speaker 5: years for my brother's murderer, and now he must not escape.
Speaker 4: I dare not go near carswell, so Harry volunteered to
Speaker 4: keep a watch on him, to let me know when
Speaker 4: our chance came to return the rooms, if it was
Speaker 4: ever to come.
Speaker 2: It is only a night or.
Speaker 4: Two after Harrington was there that I arrived home and
Speaker 4: found the calendar had come in the mail. When I
Speaker 4: examined it, I found everything after November nineteenth had been
Speaker 4: torn out. The next night I had another envelope of
Speaker 4: the mail.
Speaker 2: This time it was a woodcut an.
Speaker 4: Illustration torn out of a book showing a dark moonlit
Speaker 4: road and the man walking on it, and right behind
Speaker 4: him came a huge dark shape some awful demon creature.
Speaker 4: Under it were written some lines from the ancient Mariner,
Speaker 4: And as I sat alone and read them aloud, I
Speaker 4: felt that now familiar gust of warm air playing about
Speaker 4: my legs. The man walks on and turns no more
Speaker 4: his head, because he knows a frightful fiend duck close
Speaker 4: behind him. True, now I knew the face of my terror,
Speaker 4: and it was with me always walking down the dark
Speaker 4: street at night. I heard its footsteps behind me in
Speaker 4: my lonely house at midnight at rome the halls.
Speaker 2: Like the ancient Mariner and John Harrington, I never turned
Speaker 2: to look. I couldn't. My nerves were going, and I
Speaker 2: could do nothing but wait the days. The week slipped by,
Speaker 2: and still Harrington had no plan.
Speaker 4: I checked off the days on the calendar cars while
Speaker 4: had sent now the eight days remaining, then six, then three, two.
Speaker 2: One. It was the evening of the eighteenth. My last
Speaker 2: day on earth was to begin. At midnight.
Speaker 4: I was sitting alone in my living room, daved in perspiration,
Speaker 4: fighting to keep my nerves and check.
Speaker 2: Suddenly I felt that warm gust of air. I listened.
Speaker 4: There were soft footsteps, A shadow seemed to cross the
Speaker 4: hall door, and then the footsteps landed into a loud banging.
Speaker 5: No, no, not yet, I still jump one day more
Speaker 5: knock yet, don't.
Speaker 2: It's me? Oh?
Speaker 5: Oh h then Harry, what's the matter, man? What is it?
Speaker 2: It's you?
Speaker 4: You can knock your footsteps is.
Speaker 5: Of course, thank him, I thought, I look, man, you've
Speaker 5: got to pull yourself together. It's tonight. We have our chance.
Speaker 4: What chance?
Speaker 5: Cars will leave Victoria station by boat train to night
Speaker 5: at ten. I'll get on with him there. You take
Speaker 5: the car I brought and drive to Croydon. Get on
Speaker 5: a train there and be sure to bring the paper.
Speaker 2: Yes, yes, I heard it.
Speaker 5: You've shaved already. Good. Everything depends on his not recognizing
Speaker 5: you this Harrington.
Speaker 4: Suppose he changes his mind, Suppose he doesn't take that trip.
Speaker 4: My time runs out tomorrow.
Speaker 5: He'll be there and you'll do it. You'll do it well,
Speaker 5: you've got to.
Speaker 4: I stood on the platform across in my mind in
Speaker 4: a daze. I thought the train would never come, but
Speaker 4: it did. I saw Herrington at the window. He stared
Speaker 4: coolly at me. Of course, there was to be no
Speaker 4: sign of recognition. I entered the coach and slowly made
Speaker 4: my way down the aisle to the compartment, where Harrington
Speaker 4: sat opposite him, staring full into my face. Was car's well.
Speaker 4: He looked up as I sat down, His eyes when
Speaker 4: heavy did it, his face bland. It was impossible to
Speaker 4: tell what he knew. The train started. The next stop
Speaker 4: was Dover, at the end of the line. My last
Speaker 4: chance that was trying to cast the rooms. There was
Speaker 4: a strange riot. Caswell and I see the face to face,
Speaker 4: staring into each other's eyes. Harrington off to the side,
Speaker 4: pulling in his face and putting his fingers. If I
Speaker 4: could have only had a few whispered and moments with
Speaker 4: them to plan our statguy, but that was impossible. The
Speaker 4: moments drank tortuously and no one moved. Then suddenly Caswell
Speaker 4: leaned forward.
Speaker 2: I beg your pardon, sir. Haven't we met that, matt Well?
Speaker 2: I don't think so.
Speaker 4: Was that not unless you're in the plumbing business. Plumbing, no, hardly,
Speaker 4: I haven't planned it that way. The words the accent
Speaker 4: just seemed to come by themselves, and Caswell sat back,
Speaker 4: an enigmatic expression on his face. I wished desperately to
Speaker 4: know what he was thinking. Then suddenly he got up
Speaker 4: and went out into the color with this my child's.
Speaker 4: I was about to slip over to his bags to
Speaker 4: see if there were a ways to secrete the rules
Speaker 4: within them when I caught Harrington's eye and read a warning.
Speaker 4: Room Carswell from the corridor was watching, waiting to see
Speaker 4: if we recognized each other. I muttered a prayer of thanks.
Speaker 2: I hadn't moved. Caswell came back and took his seat.
Speaker 4: As he did so, wild exultant hope surged up in
Speaker 4: my throat for something slipped off his seat and dropped
Speaker 4: noiselessly to the floor.
Speaker 2: It was his ticket case, and he didn't see it.
Speaker 2: It was a snow cardboard ticket case with a pocket
Speaker 2: on the cover.
Speaker 4: Yet I could just get to it and slip that
Speaker 4: tiny piece of paper into that pocket.
Speaker 2: For fifteen agonizing minutes, I sat there and stared at it.
Speaker 4: If only Carswell would go out, but he sat stolidly,
Speaker 4: staring straight ahead. We were coming into the outskirts of Dover,
Speaker 4: the train slowing down. Suddenly, Harrington stood up reached up
Speaker 4: to the rack above Caswell to get his coat and bag.
Speaker 4: I stared at him blankly for a moment, surprised by
Speaker 4: his sudden clumsiness, and then I realized what he was
Speaker 4: up to. The bag, the coat of briefcase off came
Speaker 4: tumbling down upon coast.
Speaker 5: Say I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry.
Speaker 2: Comsy fool, you might have ventured me. What were you
Speaker 2: trying to do? It is my only chance cast chasing.
Speaker 4: I reached down and never got the ticket case, and
Speaker 4: my trembling fingers slip the paper into the pocket.
Speaker 2: He turned sharply to me, and I extended the case.
Speaker 2: Tot uh excuse me, sir?
Speaker 4: Is this yours?
Speaker 2: Yes to my ticket case? But you find it here
Speaker 2: on the floor? Master dropped off when this, I'm much
Speaker 2: obliged to yourself. Not at all, not at all.
Speaker 4: He looked at me fiercely, his rage at Harrington still
Speaker 4: twisting his face into a devil's mask.
Speaker 2: Then he glanced briefly into the ticket case and put
Speaker 2: it into his pocket.
Speaker 4: On the railway pier of job, Harrington and I followed
Speaker 4: a few steps behind Carswell.
Speaker 2: I felt like I might faint.
Speaker 4: Carswell went straight to the gangway of the boat, and
Speaker 4: there the purse are stopping?
Speaker 2: Does have a ticket? Fred? What the devil you mean?
Speaker 2: I'm traveling alone?
Speaker 3: That's funny.
Speaker 6: I could have sworn there was another gentleman right there beside.
Speaker 2: You, walking just at your elbow. Well, there isn't. And
Speaker 2: I suggest you see an oculist. Oh I didn't see.
Speaker 2: I just felt sorry, sir.
Speaker 6: It must have been your rugs my mistake.
Speaker 2: I'm undone.
Speaker 5: My jump's done.
Speaker 4: I didn't sleep that night I lay awake and listened,
Speaker 4: but there were no footsteps, no warm gusts.
Speaker 2: Are there nothing to disturb me.
Speaker 4: All day I felt remarkably free, although this was to
Speaker 4: have been my last day on earth.
Speaker 2: But only just now when Harrington came in. Could I
Speaker 2: really relax?
Speaker 5: Have you seen the afternoon paper yet?
Speaker 2: I know not yet?
Speaker 5: Well, here look at it. On the second page.
Speaker 4: There Abbeyville, France, an English traveler examining the front of
Speaker 4: Saint Wiltram's Cathedral today, was struck on the head and
Speaker 4: killed instantly by a stone falling from the scaffolding. A
Speaker 4: note of mystery was added by the fact that, although
Speaker 4: the cathedral was undergoing repairs, no workman was on the
Speaker 4: scaffolding at the time of the accident. The traveler was
Speaker 4: identified by papers found on him as a mister Carswell
Speaker 4: of Warwickshire.
Speaker 5: Of course it could have been an accident, Yes, yes.
Speaker 2: It could have been.
Speaker 3: Escape is produced and directed by William M. Robson and
Speaker 3: Tonight Brought You Casting The Ruins by Montague R. James,
Speaker 3: adapted for radio by Irving Rabbits and John Duncle, with
Speaker 3: John McIntyre as Edward Dunning, Jon Wolfs Harrington and Bill
Speaker 3: Conrad as Caswell. A special musical score was conceived and
Speaker 3: conducted by Cyfure.
Speaker 2: Next week.
Speaker 1: You are trapped in a hidden valley high in the Andes,
Speaker 1: walled in by sheer rock precipices, and surrounding you. Closing
Speaker 1: in on you is a band of blind men who
Speaker 1: want your eyes.
Speaker 3: Next week we escape with HG. Wells gripping story of
Speaker 3: the Country of the Blind. Good Night, Then until the
Speaker 3: same time next week when we again offer you escape.
Speaker 3: This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.