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As
may
well
be
imagined
,
I
gave
up
most
of
the
foreplanned
features
of
the
rest
of
my
tour
--
the
scenic
,
architectural
,
and
antiquarian
diversions
on
which
I
had
counted
so
heavily
.
Nor
did
I
dare
look
for
that
piece
of
strange
jewelry
said
to
be
in
the
Miskatonic
University
Museum
.
I
did
,
however
,
improve
my
stay
in
Arkham
by
collecting
some
genealogical
notes
I
had
long
wished
to
possess
;
very
rough
and
hasty
data
,
it
is
true
,
but
capable
of
good
use
later
on
when
I
might
have
time
to
collate
and
codify
them
.
The
curator
of
the
historical
society
there
--
Mr.
B.
Lapham
Peabody
--
was
very
courteous
about
assisting
me
,
and
expressed
unusual
interest
when
I
told
him
I
was
a
grandson
of
Eliza
Orne
of
Arkham
,
who
was
born
in
1867
and
had
married
James
Williamson
of
Ohio
at
the
age
of
seventeen
.
It
seemed
that
a
maternal
uncle
of
mine
had
been
there
many
years
before
on
a
quest
much
like
my
own
;
and
that
my
grandmother
's
family
was
a
topic
of
some
local
curiosity
.
There
had
,
Mr.
Peabody
said
,
been
considerable
discussion
about
the
marriage
of
her
father
,
Benjamin
Orne
,
just
after
the
Civil
War
;
since
the
ancestry
of
the
bride
was
peculiarly
puzzling
.
That
bride
was
understood
to
have
been
an
orphaned
Marsh
of
New
Hampshire
--
a
cousin
of
the
Essex
County
Marshes
--
but
her
education
had
been
in
France
and
she
knew
very
little
of
her
family
.
A
guardian
had
deposited
funds
in
a
Boston
bank
to
maintain
her
and
her
French
governess
;
but
that
guardian
's
name
was
unfamiliar
to
Arkham
people
,
and
in
time
he
dropped
out
of
sight
,
so
that
the
governess
assumed
the
role
by
court
appointment
.
The
Frenchwoman
--
now
long
dead
--
was
very
taciturn
,
and
there
were
those
who
said
she
could
have
told
more
than
she
did
.
But
the
most
baffling
thing
was
the
inability
of
anyone
to
place
the
recorded
parents
of
the
young
woman
--
Enoch
and
Lydia
(
Meserve
)
Marsh
--
among
the
known
families
of
New
Hampshire
.
Possibly
,
many
suggested
,
she
was
the
natural
daughter
of
some
Marsh
of
prominence
--
she
certainly
had
the
true
Marsh
eyes
.
Most
of
the
puzzling
was
done
after
her
early
death
,
which
took
place
at
the
birth
of
my
grandmother
--
her
only
child
.
Having
formed
some
disagreeable
impressions
connected
with
the
name
of
Marsh
,
I
did
not
welcome
the
news
that
it
belonged
on
my
own
ancestral
tree
;
nor
was
I
pleased
by
Mr.
Peabody
's
suggestion
that
I
had
the
true
Marsh
eyes
myself
.
However
,
I
was
grateful
for
data
which
I
knew
would
prove
valuable
;
and
took
copious
notes
and
lists
of
book
references
regarding
the
well-documented
Orne
family
.
I
went
directly
home
to
Toledo
from
Boston
,
and
later
spent
a
month
at
Maumee
recuperating
from
my
ordeal
.
In
September
I
entered
Oberlin
for
my
final
year
,
and
from
then
till
the
next
June
was
busy
with
studies
and
other
wholesome
activities
--
reminded
of
the
bygone
terror
only
by
occasional
official
visits
from
government
men
in
connexion
with
the
campaign
which
my
pleas
and
evidence
had
started
.
Around
the
middle
of
July
--
just
a
year
after
the
Innsmouth
experience
--
I
spent
a
week
with
my
late
mother
's
family
in
Cleveland
;
checking
some
of
my
new
genealogical
data
with
the
various
notes
,
traditions
,
and
bits
of
heirloom
material
in
existence
there
,
and
seeing
what
kind
of
a
connected
chart
I
could
construct
.
I
did
not
exactly
relish
this
task
,
for
the
atmosphere
of
the
Williamson
home
had
always
depressed
me
.
There
was
a
strain
of
morbidity
there
,
and
my
mother
had
never
encouraged
my
visiting
her
parents
as
a
child
,
although
she
always
welcomed
her
father
when
he
came
to
Toledo
.
My
Arkham-born
grandmother
had
seemed
strange
and
almost
terrifying
to
me
,
and
I
do
not
think
I
grieved
when
she
disappeared
.
I
was
eight
years
old
then
,
and
it
was
said
that
she
had
wandered
off
in
grief
after
the
suicide
of
my
Uncle
Douglas
,
her
eldest
son
.
He
had
shot
himself
after
a
trip
to
New
England
--
the
same
trip
,
no
doubt
,
which
had
caused
him
to
be
recalled
at
the
Arkham
Historical
Society
.
This
uncle
had
resembled
her
,
and
I
had
never
liked
him
either
.
Something
about
the
staring
,
unwinking
expression
of
both
of
them
had
given
me
a
vague
,
unaccountable
uneasiness
.
My
mother
and
Uncle
Walter
had
not
looked
like
that
.
They
were
like
their
father
,
though
poor
little
cousin
Lawrence
--
Walter
's
son
--
had
been
almost
perfect
duplicate
of
his
grandmother
before
his
condition
took
him
to
the
permanent
seclusion
of
a
sanitarium
at
Canton
.
I
had
not
seen
him
in
four
years
,
but
my
uncle
once
implied
that
his
state
,
both
mental
and
physical
,
was
very
bad
.
This
worry
had
probably
been
a
major
cause
of
his
mother
's
death
two
years
before
.
My
grandfather
and
his
widowed
son
Walter
now
comprised
the
Cleveland
household
,
but
the
memory
of
older
times
hung
thickly
over
it
.
I
still
disliked
the
place
,
and
tried
to
get
my
researches
done
as
quickly
as
possible
.
Williamson
records
and
traditions
were
supplied
in
abundance
by
my
grandfather
;
though
for
Orne
material
I
had
to
depend
on
my
uncle
Walter
,
who
put
at
my
disposal
the
contents
of
all
his
files
,
including
notes
,
letters
,
cuttings
,
heirlooms
,
photographs
,
and
miniatures
.
It
was
in
going
over
the
letters
and
pictures
on
the
Orne
side
that
I
began
to
acquire
a
kind
of
terror
of
my
own
ancestry
.
As
I
have
said
,
my
grandmother
and
Uncle
Douglas
had
always
disturbed
me
.
Now
,
years
after
their
passing
,
I
gazed
at
their
pictured
faces
with
a
measurably
heightened
feeling
of
repulsion
and
alienation
.
I
could
not
at
first
understand
the
change
,
but
gradually
a
horrible
sort
of
comparison
began
to
obtrude
itself
on
my
unconscious
mind
despite
the
steady
refusal
of
my
consciousness
to
admit
even
the
least
suspicion
of
it
.
It
was
clear
that
the
typical
expression
of
these
faces
now
suggested
something
it
had
not
suggested
before
--
something
which
would
bring
stark
panic
if
too
openly
thought
of
.
