AUNT DEBORAH.

Otago Witness, Issue 2545, 24 December 1902, Page 72

AUNT DEBORAH.

♦ ;by a. m. n. k. Chapter I.

O'er all 'there hung the shadow of .a iear, A sense of mystery -the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as -whisper in the ear— • "The place is haunted!" We ( Jaok and I) had' only been marriect 18 months, yet, in that short space of time, we had moved our place of residence four times. There is a saying that "Three removes are worse than a fire." vlfv lf so, what must four be like, with a fifth imminent? Foe, though I had a honor of packing and unpacking, to stay at Lightwbod aniyv-longer was simply impossible, unless * something: occurred to explain the noises that "we" were constantly hearing. It was really distressing on a stormy night, when the waves were breaking on the sea beach, and the wind shrieking through the keyholes, to heai above -'it all an unearthly moaning and wailing. I always told Jack that we were a most strong-minded couple to bear it at all. It was such a charming old place. - The 1 , house, wlrtph overlooked- the sea, was smV rounded by a dense bush, the dark green foliage lightened "here and -there by ~the. lighter green of the broadleaf and 'ribbonwood, while the garden was a perfect wilderness, of flowers. • , It was no wonder that everyone exclaimed at the beauty of the place, and .con-" gratulated us on our luck in Jiaving secui*ed such a perfect country residence. I was tired of hearing the exclamation that usually followed any hint of mine about moving — "What ! leave this beautiful place ; you surely cannot mean, it!" About this time our surprise was great to receive a not-e from Aunt Deborah, asking' if she might come to us for. Christmas and New ' Year. How I wished things had been settled before her arrival. I was so afraid she might persuade us to give the place another trial. I knew how she prided herself on her /common sense 'and determination, and, what was worse, she generally got her own way, because her various relations held her in wholesome awe. 1 As I had anticipated, Aunt Deborah was no sooner inside the house than she at once began to extb] th evirtues of our home. 1^ tried to change the subject, for I saw plainly that in some way she had "got. wind," as it were, of oui intentions, and was simply lying in wait for some loophole to start an argument. I can see her still — a tall, thin woman, with piercing" dark eyes, and hair just turning grey.. Her manner gave one the idea of great firm- , ness, and I saw a sultry time was loomingfor me. "When I see, a picture like that," she exclaimed, pointing towards the gea,'. "it* grieves me to think what mistakes you young people make in your lives. What do . you find to complain of here? As John' (she always designated my husband so, no doubt thinking it less plebeian thaD my shorter Jack) was ' driving me from the station lie hinted that you thought of leaving next month, and were on the look-oufc for another house. As a rule Ido not care to interfere with other people's affairs, but' I do think, Judith," she continued with' more emphasis, "that you are making "a very grave mistake. The last home did not satisfy you because of the bad^ drainage." The place before that was damp. Now 1 what can you find to grumble at here? I am very much afraid, my dear, that you have become a chronic fault-finder, and that vice, once contracted, grows on one apace, so take my advice and curb it while you are still young." ' I cannot remember now all she said, but she evidently thought I must submit to her views. . I felt compelled to argue with her, being one of those people who always want the last word. Besides, Aunt Deborah had a most unhappy knack of rubbing' me v.% the wrong way. "But, aunt," I cried, unable to contain myself a moment longer, "I do not deny that the house and grounds are perfectly charming, but I am sure the place ishaunted, and nothing would persuade me to stay in the house alone after dark." "Haunted !" If words could do one harm? I should have been annihilated on the' spot by tha expression Aunt Deborah threw" intothat one word. She shrugged her shoulders to more thoroughly express her contempt' for such a weak-minded individual. "Haunted !" she repeated again, "by what? — rats and mice, for they are usually the cause of most noises in old houses.' Really I do not know how you can talk such nonsense, Judith — you who live in aft enlightened century. I had an idea once " that you- " At this moment Jack appeared, to my intense relief. Aunt Deborah turned to him with a smile and a sigh of relief. One could see he was still prime favourite, though he had committed the grave error of marrying such a nincompoop. "John," the began, "what crochet tas Judith taken into her head about this charming place? Surely [and I could almbsfe believe there were tears in, her eyes, and "a plaintive ring in her voice] you do not believe this about ghosts?" Jack, much to Aunt Deborah's consternation and my amusement, looked completely taken aback, but, after, a short silence, be-, gan— "Well, aunt," and then took a deep breath before proceeding. "I am not sure," he continued, "that it is a crochet, though I daresay a great many of the noises could- bs explained, though really sometimes we do hear the most blood-curdling sounds. However, you will be able to investigate matters for yourself, and no doubt have the honour of 'laying' the ghost. I*can see you are quite equal to such a stupendous undertaking. Shall I tell you some of the stories we have been told, to prepare you, for what yj>u are to expect" "Such nonsense 1" she interrupted. "Really, John, I was not surprised at Judith, but for you to talk like this. I cannot be aufficientlv thankM Jhafc JLjim

strong-minded- and not easily carried away by imagination, but enough of this. I hope the subject will remain in abeyance during the remainder of my visit." "No, only till this evening," I heard Jack Remark, and I saw he intended to tell heR Some of these stoties later on. Chapter IL Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 29i>t!hmg*s so hard but search will find it out. That evening as we sat in the library {aunt having said she preferred that room to the Jarger one at the back of the house) a , noise' of a. vehicle being driven very fast broke the silence. , Aunt Deborahj, just shufliing her cards for her tenth game of Patience, stopped, and glanced at me.. - "Visitors, Judith, as late as this?" Jack put down his paper, and went to Bee who it could be. He soon returned, looking surprised and nonplussed. "There was no one there," he told us, Vand not a sound of any sort to be keard." ' Hardly able to believe it,, we three went »n to the verandah and listened. Standing in the bright light of the open door, everything looked pitchy_ black, but we could hear anil see-nothing.' •'-. Nothing? Then wh'atLteouhL the noise have been?. ' "WelL" gasped Jack^ "that is about the strangest thing that has ever crossed my .path/"*? - - . : At this- "point aunt caused a diversion by jjiving/a shudder, and we saw "she had turned a most ghastly colour and was shaking as if with ague. Peeling grieved at her distress, I suggested tha* we should go indoors, when from the bushes in front came a most diabolical cackle, followed by low. gurgling moans, and terminating in shrieks of a most' piercing kind. The noise gradually died away, and when we were expecting them every second to start afresh, Aunt Deborah horrified us by throwing up her lands and adding her yells to the already hideous night. ,1 Almost drowning her voice, the • answering cries came thick and fast from, the, bushes. "Come in, John," sobbed Aunt' Deborah ; "do come in ; it's that ghost! Oh, why did I cross the threshold of- this unlucky house!" We turned to go in, aunt clinging to Jack's arm, when suddenly we held our breath, and even Aunt Deborah stopped her sobs to listen. What was it? There was no doubt this time. It was certainly the crunch, crunch, crunch of a vehicle coming very slowly from ; the top end of the drive. The noises in the ; bushes had ceased, as if they, too, were ! listening. Not to be outdone a second time, Jack shook off Aunt Deborah, who TFO3 still holding him as in a vice, and crossed the gravel in what seemed one stride. * "Here, Judith," he cried, "bring a light ; there is evidently something wrong." "' jSlad, of something to' do, I ran hurriedly into the house,' and came timidly- back, ■ carrying .the flickering candle well above my "head." I found -Jack was.' holding a horse in a' two-wheeled trap. We peered under the seat, and saw a , man x huddled up in the bottom. Jack .scrambled up, and taking him by the shoulders, adminis- j tered a severe shaking. A most miserable ] specimen of humanity sat up, blinked at us, rubbed his eyes, and muttered. "What you s-say? S-sleep? Not sleep, but " and having as he thought explained himself clearly, he lay down again, quite ready to spend his night there. At our wits' end to know how to get rid of him we at last called our groom (a> new arrival that day). James at once recognised the individual as a farmer living outside the township, and much to our relief he volunteered to drive him home. With thia off our minds we returned to the house, fully expecting to haVe to resuscitate Aunt Deborah. We found her just recovering from "a bad heart attack." From her account she had suffered from these spasms for many years. Then, to show us how little she had been affected by this disturbing episode, she picked up her cards, and continued to play. After about a quarter of an hour, she made the rather unnecessary remark "that she had not won a game that evening. Luck was always against her. She would go to bed, if we would excuse her." * Soon after she had taken her departure, | James returned. j Hot caring to be left alone in the room, ] I went with Jack to the door, to hear \ the man's account of his drive. Just as j James had nearly finished an amusing account of it, a most horrible shriek broke the silence. For a second he stopped, and then went calmly on. ' "Man," Jack cried, "are you deaf? What en earth is that awful noise?" He surprised us both by bursting out laughing. "Why, sir, them's mutton birds! Have you never head them before? Sometimes jthey do scream and shriek round the house something awful. But come down," he continued ; "we may be able to see them. They usually oine in shore on stormy nights." He led the way with a lantern, and we followed, but at our approach the biids took their departure, only to start off again, louder than ever, a short distance off. It was a horribly eerie noise,, quite indescribable, but once heard, never to be forgotten. When I called Aunt Deborah to breakfast next morning, I was astonished to find that her boxes were already packed, and she herself dressed for a journey. "Why"— l begas, but -she interrupted me. ' "I have been thinking things over, Judith, and, after all, I prefer to spend Christmas in. my own home. Ido not think that the air here suits me, and I do not want to prove a* nuisance by being ill." "Oh* aunt," I cried, rather indiscreetly, " Jack can explain everything. Those cries ire heard were mutton birds. They often make a .noise like that at night when disturbed, and that has evidently been the reason this house has earned a, renutation "*« beinn haunted/

Aunt Deborah, though she closed her lips firmly, and shook her head, began to untie her bonnet, and taking it off, suggested that we should not keep Jack waiting any longer for his breakfast. She made no remark about the evening before, but I could see she was devoured with curiosity to hear Jack's account, though too proud to appear at all interested. His explanation evidently satisfied her, for when I returned to the room after a short absence, she had become quite cheerful, and turned to me with a smile. "Well, Judith, I was right after all," she said, triumphantly. "I knew there could not be a word of truth in your ghost stories. This certainly ought to be a lesson to you both." And for once I was magnanimous enough to allow her the last word.