“The soldiers never got his Book of Eibon when they burned his house, and his grandson, William Van Kauran, brought it over when he came to Rensselaerwyck and later crossed the river to Esopus. Ask anybody in Kingston or Hurley about what the William Van Kauran line could do to people that got in their way. Also, ask them if my Uncle Hendrik didn’t manage to keep hold of the Book of Eibon when they ran him out of town and he went up the river to this place with his family.
“I am writing this — and am going to keep writing this — because I want people to know the truth after I am gone. Also, I am afraid I shall really go mad if I don’t set things down in plain black and white. Everything is going against me, and if it keeps up I shall have to use the secrets in the Book and call in certain Powers. Three months ago that sculptor Arthur Wheeler came to Mountain Top, and they sent him up to me because I am the only man in the place who knows anything except farming, hunting, and fleecing summer boarders. The fellow seemed to be interested in what I had to say, and made a deal to stop here for $13.00 a week with meals. I gave him the back room beside the kitchen for his lumps of stone and his chiselling, and arranged with Nate Williams to tend to his rock blasting and haul his big pieces with a drag and yoke of oxen.
“That was three months ago. Now I know why that cursed son of hell took so quick to the place. It wasn’t my talk at all, but the looks of my wife Rose, that is Osborne Chandler’s oldest girl. She is sixteen years younger than I am, and is always casting sheep’s eyes at the fellows in town. But we always managed to get along fine enough till this dirty rat shewed up, even if she did balk at helping me with the Rites on Roodmas and Hallowmass. I can see now that Wheeler is working on her feelings and getting her so fond of him that she hardly looks at me, and I suppose he’ll try to elope with her sooner or later.
“But he works slow like all sly, polished dogs, and I’ve got plenty of time to think up what to do about it. They don’t either of them know I suspect anything, but before long they’ll both realise it doesn’t pay to break up a Van Kauran’s home. I promise them plenty of novelty in what I’ll do.
“Nov. 25 — Thanksgiving Day! That’s a pretty good joke! But at that I’ll have something to be thankful for when I finish what I’ve started. No question but that Wheeler is trying to steal my wife. For the time being, though, I’ll let him keep on being a star boarder. Got the Book of Eibon down from Uncle Hendrik’s old trunk in the attic last week, and am looking up something good which won’t require sacrifices that I can’t make around here. I want something that’ll finish these two sneaking traitors, and at the same time get me into no trouble. If it has a twist of drama in it, so much the better. I’ve thought of calling in the emanation of Yoth, but that needs a child’s blood and I must be careful about the neighbours. The Green Decay looks promising, but that would be a bit unpleasant for me as well as for them. I don’t like certain sights and smells.
“Dec. 10 — Eureka! I’ve got the very thing at last! Revenge is sweet — and this is the perfect climax! Wheeler, the sculptor — this is too good! Yes, indeed, that damned sneak is going to produce a statue that will sell quicker than any of the things he’s been carving these past weeks! A realist, eh? Well — the new statuary won’t lack any realism! I found the formula in a manuscript insert opposite page 679 of the Book. From the handwriting I judge it was put there by my great-grandfather Bareut Picterse Van Kauran — the one who disappeared from New Paltz in 1839. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Goat with a Thousand Young!
“To be plain, I’ve found a way to turn those wretched rats into stone statues. It’s absurdly simple, and really depends more on plain chemistry than on the Outer Powers. If I can get hold of the right stuff I can brew a drink that’ll pass for home-made wine, and one swig ought to finish any ordinary being short of an elephant. What it amounts to is a kind of petrification infinitely speeded up. Shoots the whole system full of calcium and barium salts and replaces living cells with mineral matter so fast that nothing can stop it. It must have been one of those things great-grandfather got at the Great Sabbat on Sugar-Loaf in the Catskills. Queer things used to go on there. Seems to me I heard of a man in New Paltz — Squire Hasbrouck — turned to stone or something like that in 1834. He was an enemy of the Van Kaurans. First thing I must do is order the five chemicals I need from Albany and Montreal. Plenty of time later to experiment. When everything is over I’ll round up all the statues and sell them as Wheeler’s work to pay for his overdue board bill! He always was a realist and an egoist — wouldn’t it be natural for him to make a self-portrait in stone, and to use my wife for another model — as indeed he’s really been doing for the past fortnight? Trust the dull public not to ask what quarry the queer stone came from!