AM INDIAN GHOST STORY.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXIX, Issue 3675, 27 February 1899, Page 2

AM INDIAN GHOST STORY.

Mr F. H. Skrine tells a strange story in the Calcutta National Magi; to ”of what, happened to him "When engaged in census Operations in the Jungiporc ” district of Bengal. He was spending the night iis the guest of an indigo manufacturer and his wife, botli French. “ 1 was awakened in the dead of night.'’ says the? writer;; “ and sat up, tremulng with the.,terror yrhich comes once or twice in a lifetime front the approach of the unknown. ?.Ai,child’s svoice came from without. In tones of:, agony .it shrieked, ‘ Mamma ! v ;Ayah ! - I* sprang through the. open? French window'into the Hotter garden. All; was- still; except the thump oft my. heart as. I listened .intently. I, It must have been a jackal, Athought: but hark. Ayah! ’ This, time there was no mistake as to the direction., The sound came fumi tlmpudigo.va'ts, an app.untenancq of every factory. JPhey are .deep masonry cisterns, in’ which the green plant is immersed in order to extract 1 ran- down' flih -aVeaiuej ‘ climbed the.party wall rmv—pf vats, and peered intO^’thO 1 dark’recesses of each. Alt’were'empty j save one filled with clear water to-, servo as a reservoir for the garden, and-it showed no signs of human life. Filled with creeping fear, I turned and walked - slowly towards the house over ground on which* the, feathery foliage of * the-'casuarinas'seemed to be photographed by the moonlight. High above their mournful sough there came again the childish screams. I rap back t 6 the vats-and'searched each in vain. ‘ Shall I alarm the house ?’ I asked myself. The feeling that hiiman intervention was useless; restrained me, and I-sought my bed, whereon 1 Itossed till the morning sun £ierced the; Venetian blinds. . .It was very ite, according to Anglo-Indian ideas, ore I joined;'.my“’entertainers at breakfast. There was;, something hi my appdifranco whibh showed that all had not gone well, for I was pressed with questions as to whether I had slept soundly. I admitted that I had . not, and began to tell the strange episode of the night. Before the denouement,was reached my hostess sank from her chair in a swoon. M. Gilbert, •as ho ran; to her assistance, cast on mo a glance* of menace and reproach which? I shall never forget. With me help of the servants he carried the poor creature to an adjoining bedroom, leaving me in mute amazement at the effect of my plain, unvarnished tale. ~-AHjer ten minutes or t so hh'returned, up to nle, said in a voice trembling with mry, ‘ Well, sir, * what am I to understand by this mystification?’ . ‘What on earth . do you' mean?’ ‘Yes, sir; mystification. And permit; me to Observe that it is in execrable taste.’ So saying M. Gilbert brought his pudgy fist down on the table with' a thump that made the hot-water dishes sound a carillon. 1 Shifting my position to a* point within reach of the carving-knife, in view of active hostilities, I replied, ‘Now, M. Gilbert, perhaps you will explain the meaning of such language to a guest.’ There was something in my manner ‘which impresse- the unhappy man. He grew' calmer, and asked anxiously whether ! had really heard the voice in thedead of- tno night, and whether I did not know the misfortune ■nfltich: had his life, and was breaking his wife’s heart. I assured him,’ on my l word of honour, that I had heard his name for the first time on the previous day. ‘ Sir,’ he replied after a pause, ‘ our little hoy was drowned a year ago in those vats.’”