William Wymark Jacobs (
8 September 1863 – 1 September 1943) was an English writer best remembered for his ghost stories of which his most famous is the much anthologised 'The Monkey's Paw'. Here we present another of his ghostly tales
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It's all nonsense," said Jack Barnes. "Of course people have died in the
house; people die in every house. As for the noises--wind in the chimney
and rats in the wainscot are very convincing to a nervous man. Give me
another cup of tea, Meagle."
"Lester and White are first," said Meagle, who was presiding at the
tea-table of the Three Feathers Inn. "You've had two."
Lester and White finished their cups with irritating slowness, pausing
between sips to sniff the aroma, and to discover the sex and dates of
arrival of the "strangers" which floated in some numbers in the beverage.
Mr. Meagle served them to the brim, and then, turning to the grimly
expectant Mr. Barnes, blandly requested him to ring for hot water.
"We'll try and keep your nerves in their present healthy condition," he
remarked. "For my part I have a sort of half-and-half belief in the
supernatural."
"All sensible people have," said Lester. "An aunt of mine saw a ghost
once."
White nodded.
"I had an uncle that saw one," he said.
"It always is somebody else that sees them," said Barnes.
"Well, there is the house," said Meagle, "a large house at an absurdly
low rent, and nobody will take it. It has taken toll of at least one life
of every family that has lived there--however short the time--and since it
has stood empty caretaker after caretaker has died there. The last
caretaker died fifteen years ago."
"Exactly," said Barnes. "Long enough ago for legends to accumulate."
"I'll bet you a sovereign you won't spend the night there alone, for all
your talk," said White suddenly.
"And I," said Lester.
"No," said Barnes slowly. "I don't believe in ghosts nor in any
supernatural things whatever; all the same, I admit that I should not care
to pass a night there alone."
"But why not?" inquired White.
"Wind in the chimney," said Meagle, with a grin.
"Rats in the wainscot," chimed in Lester.
"As you like," said Barnes, colouring.
"Suppose we all go?" said Meagle. "Start after supper, and get there
about eleven? We have been walking for ten days now without an
adventure--except Barnes's discovery that ditch-water smells longest. It
will be a novelty, at any rate, and, if we break the spell by all
surviving, the grateful owner ought to come down handsome."
"Let's see what the landlord has to say about it first," said Lester.
"There is no fun in passing a night in an ordinary empty house. Let us make
sure that it is haunted."
He rang the bell, and, sending for the landlord, appealed to him in the
name of our common humanity not to let them waste a night watching in a
house in which spectres and hobgoblins had no part. The reply was more than
reassuring, and the landlord, after describing with considerable art the
exact appearance of a head which had been seen hanging out of a window in
the moonlight, wound up with a polite but urgent request that they would
settle his bill before they went.
"It's all very well for you young gentlemen to have your fun," he said
indulgently; "but, supposing as how you are all found dead in the morning,
what about me? It ain't called the Toll-House for nothing, you know."
"Who died there last?" inquired Barnes, with an air of polite derision.
"A tramp," was the reply. "He went there for the sake of half-a-crown,
and they found him next morning hanging from the balusters, dead."
"Suicide," said Barnes. "Unsound mind."
The landlord nodded. "That's what the jury brought it in," he said
slowly; "but his mind was sound enough when he went in there. I'd known
him, off and on, for years. I'm a poor man, but I wouldn't spend the night
in that house for a hundred pounds."
He repeated this remark as they started on their expedition a few hours
later. They left as the inn was closing for the night; bolts shot noisily
behind them, and, as the regular customers trudged slowly homewards, they
set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the house. Most of the cottages
were already in darkness, and lights in others went out as they passed.
"It seems rather hard that we have got to lose a night's rest in order to
convince Barnes of the existence of ghosts," said White.
"It's in a good cause," said Meagle. "A most worthy object; and something
seems to tell me that we shall succeed. You didn't forget the candles,
Lester?"
"I have brought two," was the reply; "all the old man could spare."
There was but little moon, and the night was cloudy. The road between
high hedges was dark, and in one place, where it ran through a wood, so
black that they twice stumbled in the uneven ground at the side of it.
"Fancy leaving our comfortable beds for this!" said White again. "Let me
see; this desirable residential sepulchre lies to the right, doesn't it?"
"Farther on," said Meagle.
They walked on for some time in silence, broken only by White's tribute
to the softness, the cleanliness, and the comfort of the bed which was
receding farther and farther into the distance. Under Meagle's guidance
they turned off at last to the right, and, after a walk of a quarter of a
mile, saw the gates of the house before them.
The lodge was almost hidden by over-grown shrubs and the drive was choked
with rank growths. Meagle leading, they pushed through it until the dark
pile of the house loomed above them.
"There is a window at the back where we can get in, so the landlord
says," said Lester, as they stood before the hall door.
"Window?" said Meagle. "Nonsense. Let's do the thing properly. Where's
the knocker?"
He felt for it in the darkness and gave a thundering rat-tat-tat at the
door.
"Don't play the fool," said Barnes crossly.
"Ghostly servants are all asleep," said Meagle gravely, "but I'll wake
them up before I've done with them. It's scandalous keeping us out here in
the dark."
He plied the knocker again, and the noise volleyed in the emptiness
beyond. Then with a sudden exclamation he put out his hands and stumbled
forward.
"Why, it was open all the time," he said, with an odd catch in his voice.
"Come on."
"I don't believe it was open," said Lester, hanging back. "Somebody is
playing us a trick."
"Nonsense," said Meagle sharply. "Give me a candle. Thanks. Who's got a
match?"
Barnes produced a box and struck one, and Meagle, shielding the candle
with his hand, led the way forward to the foot of the stairs. "Shut the
door, somebody," he said; "there's too much draught."
"It is shut," said White, glancing behind him.
Meagle fingered his chin. "Who shut it?" he inquired, looking from one to
the other. "Who came in last?"
"I did," said Lester, "but I don't remember shutting it--perhaps I did,
though."
Meagle, about to speak, thought better of it, and, still carefully
guarding the flame, began to explore the house, with the others close
behind. Shadows danced on the walls and lurked in the corners as they
proceeded. At the end of the passage they found a second staircase, and
ascending it slowly gained the first floor.
"Careful!" said Meagle, as they gained the landing.
He held the candle forward and showed where the balusters had broken
away. Then he peered curiously into the void beneath.
"This is where the tramp hanged himself, I suppose," he said
thoughtfully.
"You've got an unwholesome mind," said White, as they walked on. "This
place is quite creepy enough without you remembering that. Now let's find a
comfortable room and have a little nip of whisky apiece and a pipe. How
will this do?"
He opened a door at the end of the passage and revealed a small square
room. Meagle led the way with the candle, and, first melting a drop or two
of tallow, stuck it on the mantelpiece. The others seated themselves on the
floor and watched pleasantly as White drew from his pocket a small bottle
of whisky and a tin cup.
"H'm! I've forgotten the water," he exclaimed.
"I'll soon get some," said Meagle.
He tugged violently at the bell-handle, and the rusty jangling of a bell
sounded from a distant kitchen. He rang again.
"Don't play the fool," said Barnes roughly.
Meagle laughed. "I only wanted to convince you," he said kindly. "There
ought to be, at any rate, one ghost in the servants' hall."
Barnes held up his hand for silence.
"Yes?" said Meagle, with a grin at the other two. "Is anybody coming?"
"Suppose we drop this game and go back," said Barnes suddenly. "I don't
believe in spirits, but nerves are outside anybody's command. You may laugh
as you like, but it really seemed to me that I heard a door open below and
steps on the stairs."
His voice was drowned in a roar of laughter.
"He is coming round," said Meagle, with a smirk. "By the time I have done
with him he will be a confirmed believer. Well, who will go and get some
water? Will, you, Barnes?"
"No," was the reply.
"If there is any it might not be safe to drink after all these years,"
said Lester. "We must do without it."
Meagle nodded, and taking a seat on the floor held out his hand for the
cup. Pipes were lit, and the clean, wholesome smell of tobacco filled the
room. White produced a pack of cards; talk and laughter rang through the
room and died away reluctantly in distant corridors.
"Empty rooms always delude me into the belief that I possess a deep
voice," said Meagle. "To-morrow I----"
He started up with a smothered exclamation as the light went out suddenly
and something struck him on the head. The others sprang to their feet. Then
Meagle laughed.
"It's the candle," he exclaimed. "I didn't stick it enough."
Barnes struck a match, and re-lighting the candle, stuck it on the
mantelpiece, and sitting down took up his cards again.
"What was I going to say?" said Meagle. "Oh, I know; to-morrow I----"
"Listen!" said White, laying his hand on the other's sleeve. "Upon my
word I really thought I heard a laugh."
"Look here!" said Barnes. "What do you say to going back? I've had enough
of this. I keep fancying that I hear things too; sounds of something moving
about in the passage outside. I know it's only fancy, but it's
uncomfortable."
"You go if you want to," said Meagle, "and we will play dummy. Or you
might ask the tramp to take your hand for you, as you go downstairs."
Barnes shivered and exclaimed angrily. He got up, and, walking to the
half-closed door, listened.
"Go outside," said Meagle, winking at the other two. "I'll dare you to go
down to the hall door and back by yourself."
Barnes came back, and, bending forward, lit his pipe at the candle.
"I am nervous, but rational," he said, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke.
"My nerves tell me that there is something prowling up and down the long
passage outside; my reason tells me that that is all nonsense. Where are my
cards?"
He sat down again, and, taking up his hand, looked through it carefully
and led.
"Your play, White," he said, after a pause.
White made no sign.
"Why, he is asleep," said Meagle. "Wake up, old man. Wake up and play."
Lester, who was sitting next to him, took the sleeping man by the arm and
shook him, gently at first and then with some roughness but White, with his
back against the wall and his head bowed, made no sign. Meagle bawled in
his ear, and then turned a puzzled face to the others.
"He sleeps like the dead," he said, grimacing. "Well, there are still
three of us to keep each other company."
"Yes," said Lester, nodding. "Unless-- Good Lord! suppose----"
He broke off, and eyed them, trembling.
"Suppose what?" inquired Meagle.
"Nothing," stammered Lester. "Let's wake him. Try him again. White!
WHITE!"
"It's no good," said Meagle seriously; "there's something wrong about
that sleep."
"That's what I meant," said Lester; "and if he goes to sleep like that,
why shouldn't----"
Meagle sprang to his feet. "Nonsense," he said roughly. "He's tired out;
that's all. Still, let's take him up and clear out. You take his legs and
Barnes will lead the way with the candle. Yes? Who's that?"
He looked up quickly towards the door. "Thought I heard somebody tap," he
said, with a shamefaced laugh. "Now, Lester, up with him. One, two--
Lester! Lester!"
He sprang forward too late; Lester, with his face buried in his arms, had
rolled over on the floor fast asleep, and his utmost efforts failed to
awake him.
"He--is--asleep," he stammered. "Asleep!"
Barnes, who had taken the candle from the mantelpiece, stood peering at
the sleepers in silence and dropping tallow over the floor.
"We must get out of this," said Meagle. "Quick!"
Barnes hesitated. "We can't leave them here--" he began.
"We must," said Meagle, in strident tones. "If you go to sleep I shall
go-- Quick! Come!"
He seized the other by the arm and strove to drag him to the door. Barnes
shook him off, and, putting the candle back on the mantelpiece, tried again
to arouse the sleepers.
"It's no good," he said at last, and, turning from them, watched Meagle.
"Don't you go to sleep," he said anxiously.
Meagle shook his head, and they stood for some time in uneasy silence.
"May as well shut the door," said Barnes at last.
He crossed over and closed it gently. Then at a scuffling noise behind
him he turned and saw Meagle in a heap on the hearthstone.
With a sharp catch in his breath he stood motionless. Inside the room the
candle, fluttering in the draught, showed dimly the grotesque attitudes of
the sleepers. Beyond the door there seemed to his overwrought imagination a
strange and stealthy unrest. He tried to whistle, but his lips were
parched, and in a mechanical fashion he stooped, and began to pick up the
cards which littered the floor.
He stopped once or twice and stood with bent head listening. The unrest
outside seemed to increase; a loud creaking sounded from the stairs.
"Who is there?" he cried loudly.
The creaking ceased. He crossed to the door, and, flinging it open,
strode out into the corridor. As he walked his fears left him suddenly.
"Come on!" he cried, with a low laugh. "All of you! All of you! Show your
faces--your infernal ugly faces! Don't skulk!"
He laughed again and walked on; and the heap in the fireplace put out its
head tortoise fashion and listened in horror to the retreating footsteps.
Not until they had become inaudible in the distance did the listener's
features relax.
"Good Lord, Lester, we've driven him mad," he said, in a frightened
whisper. "We must go after him."
There was no reply. Meagle sprang to his feet.
"Do you hear?" he cried. "Stop your fooling now; this is serious. White!
Lester! Do you hear?"
He bent and surveyed them in angry bewilderment. "All right," he said, in
a trembling voice. "You won't frighten me, you know."
He turned away and walked with exaggerated carelessness in the direction
of the door. He even went outside and peeped through the crack, but the
sleepers did not stir. He glanced into the blackness behind, and then came
hastily into the room again.
He stood for a few seconds regarding them. The stillness in the house was
horrible; he could not even hear them breathe. With a sudden resolution he
snatched the candle from the mantelpiece and held the flame to White's
finger. Then as he reeled back stupefied, the footsteps again became
audible.
He stood with the candle in his shaking hand, listening. He heard them
ascending the farther staircase, but they stopped suddenly as he went to
the door. He walked a little way along the passage, and they went scurrying
down the stairs and then at a jog-trot along the corridor below. He went
back to the main staircase, and they ceased again.
For a time he hung over the balusters, listening and trying to pierce the
blackness below; then slowly, step by step, he made his way downstairs,
and, holding the candle above his head, peered about him.
"Barnes!" he called. "Where are you?"
Shaking with fright, he made his way along the passage, and summoning up
all his courage, pushed open doors and gazed fearfully into empty rooms.
Then, quite suddenly, he heard the footsteps in front of him.
He followed slowly for fear of extinguishing the candle, until they led
him at last into a vast bare kitchen, with damp walls and a broken floor.
In front of him a door leading into an inside room had just closed. He ran
towards it and flung it open, and a cold air blew out the candle. He stood
aghast.
"Barnes!" he cried again. "Don't be afraid! It is I--Meagle!"
There was no answer. He stood gazing into the darkness, and all the time
the idea of something close at hand watching was upon him. Then suddenly
the steps broke out overhead again.
He drew back hastily, and passing through the kitchen groped his way
along the narrow passages. He could now see better in the darkness, and
finding himself at last at the foot of the staircase, began to ascend it
noiselessly. He reached the landing just in time to see a figure disappear
round the angle of a wall. Still careful to make no noise, he followed the
sound of the steps until they led him to the top floor, and he cornered the
chase at the end of a short passage.
"Barnes!" he whispered. "Barnes!"
Something stirred in the darkness. A small circular window at the end of
the passage just softened the blackness and revealed the dim outlines of a
motionless figure. Meagle, in place of advancing, stood almost as still as
a sudden horrible doubt took possession of him. With his eyes fixed on the
shape in front he fell back slowly, and, as it advanced upon him, burst
into a terrible cry.
"Barnes! For God's sake! Is it you?"
The echoes of his voice left the air quivering, but the figure before him
paid no heed. For a moment he tried to brace his courage up to endure its
approach, then with a smothered cry he turned and fled.
The passages wound like a maze, and he threaded them blindly in a vain
search for the stairs. If he could get down and open the hall door----
He caught his breath in a sob; the steps had begun again. At a lumbering
trot they clattered up and down the bare passages, in and out, up and down,
as though in search of him. He stood appalled, and then as they drew near
entered a small room and stood behind the door as they rushed by. He came
out and ran swiftly and noiselessly in the other direction, and in a moment
the steps were after him. He found the long corridor and raced along it at
top speed. The stairs he knew were at the end, and with the steps close
behind he descended them in blind haste. The steps gained on him, and he
shrank to the side to let them pass, still continuing his headlong flight.
Then suddenly he seemed to slip off the earth into space.
Lester awoke in the morning to find the sunshine streaming into the room,
and White sitting up and regarding with some perplexity a badly-blistered
finger.
"Where are the others?" inquired Lester.
"Gone, I suppose," said White. "We must have been asleep."
Lester arose, and, stretching his stiffened limbs, dusted his clothes
with his hands and went out into the corridor. White followed. At the noise
of their approach a figure which had been lying asleep at the other end sat
up and revealed the face of Barnes. "Why, I've been asleep," he said, in
surprise. "I don't remember coming here. How did I get here?"
"Nice place to come for a nap," said Lester severely, as he pointed to
the gap in the balusters. "Look there! Another yard and where would you
have been?"
He walked carelessly to the edge and looked over. In response to his
startled cry the others drew near, and all three stood staring at the dead
man below.
- or watch it below.
- or watch it below.
- or watch it below.