LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6240, 17 May 1888, Page 1

LITERATURE.

THE TRANSFERRED GHOST.

The country residence of Mr Joan Hinckman was a delightful place to me, for many reasons. It was tho abede of a genial, though somewhat; impuleive, hospitality. It had broad, anioobh-ohaven l&wna and towering oaks .and elms j there were bosky shades at several points, and not far from the house there waa a little rill spanned by a rustic bridge with, the bark oa ; there were fruits and flowers, pleasant people, checa, billiards, rides, walks, and fishing. Theea w«re great attractions!, but none of them, nor all of them together, would have been sufficient to hold me to the place very long. I had been invited for the trout Bcaaon, but should probably have finished my -wiait early in the summer had it not been that upon fair days, when tho gross was dry, and the sun wan not tco hot, and there was but little wind, thera strolled beneath the lofty elms, or passed lightly through the bosky sbsidea, tho formol' my Madeline. This lady was not, in very truth, my Madeline. She had never given herself to mo, nor had I, ia any way, acquired possession of her. JButtta I considered her possessilon the only sufficient reason for the contSnuanco of my existence, I called her, in my reveries, mine. Ib may have be&n that I would not have been obliged to confinty the uuo ot this possessive pronoun to uiy reveries had I confessed the Etate of mj feelings to the lady. But thia was an unusually difficult thing to do. Not only did I dread, aa almost ail lovers dread, hiking the step which would in an instant put an end to that delightful season which may be tesmod the anteintarrogatory period of love, and which i might at tbo game time terminate all, intercourse or connection with the object) of my pasr-ion • bub I was, also, dreadfully I afraid of John Hinckman. This gentleman? was a good friend of mine, but it would) have required a bolder man than I was at that time to ask him for the gift of hia niece, who was the head of his household, and, according to hia own frequent Btatement, the maia prop of hia declining years. Had Madelino acquiesced in my general views on the Bubjeco, I mi^ijt hava felt encouraged to opeu the mattec to Mr Hinckman, but, as I said before, I had never asked her whether or not she would be nrino. I thought of these things at all noura of the day nnd. night, particularly tho latter. I was Ijing awake oue night, in the ( great bed in my spacious chamber, when, i by the dim light of the new moon, which,, partially filled the room, I saw^ John< Hinckman Btanding by a large chair near/ the door. I waa very much surprised at thia for two reasons. In tho first placfi, my host had never before come into my room, and, in tho second place, he hod gone from home that morning, and hsid nob expected to return for nevoral days. Et was for this reason thafc I had been able that evening to sit much later than usu&l with Madelino in the moonlit porch. Th>o figuie wftu certainly tbab of John Hinckman in hia ordinary drees, but there wa9 a ' vagueness and indistinctness about it . which presently assured me that it wa3 a I ghost. Had the good old man been mur-t dered? and had hia spirit come to tell me/ of the deed, and to confide to me the protection of his dear ? My heart fluttered at what I was about to think, bvtt at this instant the figure spoke. " Do you know," he said, with a cotmtenance that indicated anxiety, " if Mr Hinckman will return to-night ?" I thought it well to maintain a crilm exterior, and I answered : " We do not expect him." " I am glad of that," said he, sinking into the chair by which heßtood. " Daring the two year3 and a half that I have inhabited this house, thifc man haa never before been away for a singles night. You can't imagine the relief it givea me." And as he spoke he stretched out hit] logs and leaned back in the chair. Hia form became less vague, and the colours of his garments moro. distract and evident, while an expression of gratified relief succeeded to the anxiety of his countenamca. " Two years and a half!" I exclaimed. " I don't understand you." " It ia fully that length of time," said the ghost, " since I first came here. Mine is not an ordinary case. But before I say anything more about it. let me apk you again if you are sure Sir Hinckman will not return to-nighj: ?" "I am as sure of it as I can be of anything," I answered. "He left to-clay for Bristol, two hundred mile3 away." "Then I will go on," said the ghost, " for I am glad to have the opportu mty of talking to someone who will listen to me ; but if John Hinckman should come in and catch me here, I should ba frightened out of my wits." "This ib all very 6trange," I said, greatly puzzled by what I had heard. " Are you the ghost of Mr Hinciman ?" This was a bold question, but my mind, was so full of other emotions that thereseemed to be no room for that of fear. "Yes, I am hie ghost," my companion, replied, " and yet I liavc no right to be. And this is what makes me eo uneasy, and so much afraid of him. It i3 a strange story, and, I truly believe, without precedent. Two years years and a half ago John Hinckman was dangerously ill in this very room. At one time he was so far gone that he was really believed to be dead. It was in consequence of too precipitate a report in regard to thi3 matter th.at I was at that time appointed to be his ghost. Imagine my surprise and horror, Sin*, when, after I had accepted the position and Assumed its responsibilities, that old man revived, became convalescent, and. eventually regained his usual health. My situation was now one of extreme ddlicacy and embarrassment. I had no power to return to my original unembodimen.f , and I had no right to be the ghost of a man who waa not dead. I was advised T»y my friends to quietly maintain my position, and was assured that, as John Hinctkinaa wbb an elderly man, it could not bo long before I could rightfully neeume the position for which I had been selected. But I tell you, Sir," he continued, with animation, " the old follow seems as vigorous r.s evetr, and I have no idea how much longer this annoying state of things will continue. I bpend my time trying to get out of tbafc old uiati's way. I muat not leave this houße, and ho scorns to follow me everywhere. I tell you, Sir, he hnunta use." " Tbafc is truly a queer Btate of things," I remarked. " But why w.a you afraid of hitfi ? He conldn'thurb yon." " Of course he couldn't," said tho ghost. " Bub bi3 very presence is a 6hock and terror to me. Imagine, Sir, how you would feel if my case were yours." I could not imagine such a thing at all. I simply shuddered. " And if one must be a wrongful ghost at all," the apparition coutinued, "it would be much pleaaanter to be the ghost of some man other than John Hinckman. There ia in him an irascibility of temper, accompanied by a facility of invective, which iff sgjdom met with. And what would happen if he weto to ece me, and find out, as I am sure ho would, how long and why I had inhabited his house, I can scarcely conceive. I have eoen hiu-i in his bursts of passion, and, although he did not hurt the people ho stormed at any more thau he would hurt me, they seemed to shrink before him." All this I knew to bpvery true. Had it not beeu /or thia peuuliki'iby of Mr Hinckman, I might have been more willing to talk toAim, afooatidmiece.

" I feel eorry for you," T said, for I really began to have a sympathetic! feelinp to* ■ward tins unfortunate apparition. " Your case is indeed a hard one. It reminds ma of those persons who hare had doubles, and I suppose a man would often be very angry indeed -when he found that there was another, being who was personating himself." " Ob, the cases are not similar at all," said the ghost. "A double or doppelganger lives<on the earth with a man, and, baiog exactly like him, he makes all sorts o£ trouble of course. It ia very different with, me. L'am not hero to live with Mr Hincbman. lam here to take his place. 2Tow,.ifc would make John Hinckroan very angry if he knew that. Don't; you know i'o would ?" I assented promptly. " Now that he i3 away I can bo easy for a littleiwhilo," continued the ghost, " and I am so glad to have ru opportunity of talking to you. I have frequently come into your ioom and watched you while you slfept, but did not dare to speak to you for f rtar that if you talked with me Mr Hinekman would hear you, and come into the room to know why you ware talking to jfouraelf." "Bat would he not hear you?" I asked. "Ah, no," said tho other, "there are times when anyone may see me, but no one hears me except the person to whom I ndftrusa myself." " But why did you wish to speak to me ?" leaked. "DBeeause," replied the ghost, "I like occasionally to talk to people, and especially to comeonc like yourself, whose mind is ,so troubled aid perturbed that you are not litely to ba frightened by a visit from ono of us. Bnfc I particularly wanted to ask you to do me a favour. There is every probability, so far as I can see, that John Hinckman will live a Ion<? time, aad my situation is becoming insupportable. My great object ai present is to gat myself transferred, and I think that yon may, perhapß, be of uso to me." " Traraf erred !" I exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?" " What I mean," said the other, "is this : Now that I have started on my career I have got to bo the ghost of somebody; and I want to be the gho3t of a :rnan who is really dead." "I should think that would -bo easy enough," I said. " Opportunities must •continually occur." " Not at all ! not at all !" ssid my comI patiion, quickly. "You have no idea, what a rush and pressure there ia for situations of this kind. Whenever a vacancy occkts, if I may express myself in that way, there are crowds of applications for the ghostship." "I had no idea that such a state of things existed," I 6Md, becoming quite interested iu the matter. "There ought to ba EotßO regular system or order of precedents, by which you could all tefce your turns like customers in a barber's shop." " Oh, dear, that would never do at all !" Bftid the otboc. " Some of us would have to wait for ever. There is always a great iush whenever a good gfceetship offers itself, whi!c>, as you know, there arc Borne positions that no ono would cue for. And it wa3 ia consequence of my being in too great a hurry on an occasion of the kind that I got myself into my present disagreeable predicament, ami I have thought that it might be possible that you would help me out of it. You mightknow of a case where an opportunity for a ghoatehip was not generally expected, but which might; present itself at any moment. If you would give me a short notice, I know I could arrange for a transfer." " What do you mean ?" I exclaimed. "Do you want me to commit suicido ? Or to undertake a murder for your benefit ?" " Oh, no, no, no !" said the other, with a vapoury smile. " I mean nothing of that kind. To be Eure, there are lovers who aro watched with considerable interest, euch persons having been known, in moments of depression, to offer very desirable ghostships, but I did not think of anything of that kind in connection with you. You were the only per3on I cared to speak to, and I hoped that you might givo me some information that would be of use ; and, in return, I 6b all ba very glad to help you in your 3ovo affair." " You seem to know that I have such an affair," I said. "Oh, yee," replied the other, with a little yawn. "I could not be here so much as I have been ■without knowing all about that." Thera was somethfing horrible in the idea or Madeline and myself having been watched by a ghost, even, perhaps, when we wandered togethertin the moat delightful nnd bosky places. But then this was quite an exceptional ghoat, and I could not have the objections to him which would ordinarily arise in regard to beings of his class. " I must go now," said the ghost, rising, but I will see you stjmewhere to-morrow night. And remember — you help me, and 'I'll help you." (To be continued.)