A GHOST STORY.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXIV, Issue 4871, 24 January 1903, Page 2 (Supplement)

A GHOST STORY.

George Ilarkness replaced the iihotograpli lu the sale, shut the door, and turned the hey. muttering, as he did so —"tine's head and beyond the reach of

either of us, and yet —and yet i hale him more than ever;’’ die glanced at the dud:. -imudered slightly, and left the library.

tic stepped across the hull allfl_ looked iruo the diuing-ioom, where the tabic was laid lor tv.-o. It was the table ol a rich liui;;,- but it linked the finishing touch 01 a waiiiiiii’i deli lingers. lie mug tire bell twice, sharply, and presently his man appeared.

"I’m going down to the station to incet Jlr Melville,” said Ilarkness. , “You’ll have dinner ready at seven prompt, and, meantime', you might seo to this."’ lie handed a slip of paper on which was pencilled a short list of clioice vintages to his man, who bowed rospectiully and took his departure. Harkuess iccalled him, “I want the small electric lantern to-night. Duncan. You know how to'charge it." _ "Yes sir. Do yon wish it now, sir?” “No. net till after dinner. That’s all, T think.”

The servant withdrew, and a minute Inler the master left the house, walking swilcly in the direction ‘of the village station. As he turned out of the avenue he glanced back, not at his own house, but iit (lie one further up the .hillside, the only oilier house in his vicinity. It was a handsome square building, which had been “untenauled since, and long, before ilarkness took up his bachelor abode in its neighbour. It was but a few minutes walk to the station, but Darkness somehow felt it longer than usual. The summer evening was exceedingly close, which perhaps accounted for the ache in his head and the strange light in his eyes. ... It was a curious thing, too. that he, the '‘gentleman” of the district, should push the porter rudely aside front tlio little station drinking fountain and greedily gulp tlio water -from the iron cup. It is true that ho immediately offered the man a shilling and a-,, apology, both of which.wore accepted; but if you were to ask the porter about tlie incident to-day he would tell you—well, the porter makes rather a long story of it, and I have not room for it here.

For half a minute Melville gazed at the tip of ins cigar, an amused smile playing about his lips; then he looked across the table at his host and burst but laughing. Harmless laughed also, but not altogether easily. v. hy are you trying to frighten mo?” asked Mclvilie, becoming suddenly grave. “My dear fellow, I know you too well to attempt anything so impossible. Pm merely warning you,” returned Harkuess, lighting a third cigarette. liis guest laughed again. “When we met in town last week yon whetted my curiosity about this haunted house of yours, and asked me down to investigate. Isn’t that so?” Harkness nodded. “And now, after giving me the best dinner I've oaten since I went abroad, you deny mo the second part of the entertainment.” “I don't deny you anything, Melville. As I said a minute ago, 1 merely warn you.” “Thanks. Then I am to be allowed to proceed with the test?” “If you really desire to do so." "Of course I do. It will make tbe thirty-seventh haunted house business I have investigated without discovering a ghost.” Melville laughed lightly. “You are very sure,” muttered the host. "Have a little claret,” he added more graciously. % "It's a glorious wine said Melville, filling his glass and raising it to his-lips- “Your health, my dear fellow! Yon surely understand that your ghost is only the secondary object of my visit.” Ho stretched his hand across the table. “We have buried the past, have we not” ho asked softly. “I if we’ve done that, wo can lay any other ghost.” Harkness toon the preferred hand, but his eyes wore on' the white cloth. He murmured something which apparently satisfied his guest, for the latter’s face softened and his mouth Quivered for an instant. A silence fell between them.

The clock in the library chimed eleven o’clock as the two men entered by the French window. Both were perspiring, for the sultriness of the weather had increased. Harkness touched the switch of his electric lantern, and the light went out. He pointed to an casy-chair, and flung himself into another.

"Well?” ho said, with a thin smile, “you have viewed the premises, and I have answered all your questions. Will you give up the idea?” Melville lit a cigar before he answered. “The house is certainly eerie enough, and your talcs of the brute-ghost, or whatever it is, are sufficiently gruesome,” he said calmly, "but I shouldn’t mind spending an hour iu the haunted room. The marks at the window may bo blood, but I’ve seen that sort of thing faked before. How long ago did you say it was since the last scare took place?”

"Seventeen years exactly. The house hasn’t been occupied for over forty years; but ou the night I mention a tramp had got in by a lower window and gone upstairs to sleep. In the morning the window of the haunted room was seen to bo broken and the shutters pulled back. Inside the}* found the tramp. He had tried to get out hy the window, but had failed. His throat —but I’ve told you about it already,” said Harkness. “HTa! And the pr evious victims all died “in a similar fashion. Excellent! Really, my dear Harkness, I’m indebted to you! A brute-ghost! Splendid! I’ve had nothing to encounter so far but poor ordinary human ghosts, which, after all, never kept their appointments. Now. my appetite is fairly tickled!” "For Heaven’s sake!” began Harkness. "Listen!" Melville interrupted quietly. "You will rope me into a chair in the haunted room, at a quarter to twelve, as we have already arranged, turning my hack to tho door, and leave me to my—ahem !—awful .fate! At one o’clock you will return and set me free.” He laughed gaily to his host. For nearly a minute Harkness sat silent. Then he said in a half-choked voice, "It shall be as you wish, Melville, but I’ll first ask you to sign a brief declaration exonerating me from any responsibility. And—and “l still beg of you to change your mind.” "Eot!” cried his guest good-humouredly. "I’m going to prove to you that your new purchase is quite a habitable dwelling, and at the same time indulge my hobby.” "Will you take anything to drink?” inquired Harkness presently, pointing to the decanters and glasses on a side table. “No, thank you. I don’t feel faint.” was the reply. , “I dc,” said Harkness, with an effort at a laugh. -And he rose. and, having stepped rather unsteadily across tho room helped himself to a full glass of licmeur brandv, after which he picked up the lantern and opened the French window.

A prisoner in the heavy oak chair, Melville heard the footsteps of his host grow fainter as the latter descended the bare wooden staircase. Soon the footsteps ceased, and the liali-door opened with a rusty scream and shut with a crash. Melville was alone in the haunted honse. The shutters of the window in his chamber had been thrown back, and the window itself opened; and in the garden below he knew that Harkness was keeping watch, ready to return should he call for assistance. A likely thing, he told himself, with an inward chuckle. Behind him the door stood open. He could turn his head, but a broad bar at the top of the high-hacked chair prevented him seeing anything in his rear. Besides it was very dark. He closed his eves and made himself as comfortable as his bonds permitted. Half an hour, as it seemed to him, went past, and nothing happened. The

core! chafed one of his wrists, and lie grew slightly impatient. "Jdarknoss needn’t Have trussed me ua quite sti severely,” ire said tu himself.

He closed his eyes again. burciy the coot behind him creaked! ; die siarted; then laughed soltly. “ 'divas > but tile wind—and a good thing it- Ims : risen at hist," he thought. Several piths i of the breeze came through the window, | and the dear creaked repeatc-oly i “Bother the door“' muttered Melville. ' ‘‘l wonder what time it is.” die found | ha could pull his watch from its packet i with tiie lingers of his right hand. Pres- > cutly he managed to open the glass us wcli as the ease, “It must he nearly one o'clock,” he told himaeif, feeling cautiously for the hands. The hands indicated twenty minutes past twelve. He felt suddenly depressed. Just then a strong gust of wind burst into the room, and the door.shut with a crash, and, the catch being broken, continued to creak intermittently on its hinges. Melville sank back, his muscles aching with the strain he' had involuntarily exerted against Ids bonds. ‘‘What’s the matter with me?” ho wondered angrily. The wind died almost ns abruptly as it .had arisen, and tho stillness of the empty house seemed greater than ever Melville felt his watch once more. The time was half-past twelve, lie felt chilly and cramped, and wished he had arranged witn Harkness for the latter to return in hnlf-an-hour. Tito conventional ghostly hour was passed. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. Ho was suffering discomfort to no purpose. What? What was that? Par away, as it first seemed, there began a faint, sole sound, Melville listened intently. Alter all. it wasn't Hu Tar away, it was in the hall below —no! it was at the loot of the staircase—no! it was hallway up the staircase. . . • Something was coining up the stair —something that moved soltly, yet heavily, with a peculiar padded sound. Melville gripped the arms of the chair with his elbows. “Is that you, Harkness?” ho asked. But he knew it was not Harkness. Yet he would nut call out. The thing reached tho top of the stairs, and Melville hoard its breathing ag it padded along tho landing. Outside the door it stopped, snulfling. Y’et the man inside made no sound. Tho Thing left tho door, and he knew it was ascending the second staircase. Melville moistened his lips, and, clenching his hands, sought to loosen his bonds. . . . Tho Thing began, to descend tho staircase, and presently paused once more at the door, snulfling. Melville opened his mouth to shout, but refrained. Then the door creaked and strung slowly open This lime Melville tyould have shouted, hut his voice had gone. He heard the padding and shuffling behind him - nearer—nearer—nearer The Thing was just behind his chair. . . . . It rose. . . . Ho felt a hot breath on his cheek. . . . Something dug into his flesh. . . . Ho yelled and lost consciousness. ««• ■ . • George Harkness switched on his electric lantern, and came from behind tho chair. Ho shone the light in Melville’s face, and smiled to see the ghastly skin and tho drooped jaw. ‘‘So there was a ghost after all, Mr Melville.” lie sneered. “Now, I’d better yet away downstairs, and put on my boots, and run for help—help which, I fancy, is quite useless." He chuckled horribly, and turned to tho door. Stop!

Something was coming up tho stair—not slowly, but swiftly and eagerly. It was the Thing he had heard stories of —the Thing ho had tried to ape in the last few minutes. / Harkness stepped back, accidentally dashing the lanrp to shivers against ,the oak chair. Ho shrieked and stumbled back in the darkness. Up, and towards the window, his teeth cnatteriug, :: his hair on end, his hand at his throat. ...... There was a snuffling at the door, and then— — But please, excuse me, my gentle readers. The tea-bell has just rung, and I do dislike'being late for meals.—J.J.B., in "Evening Times.”