ROOM 629

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLIV, Issue 1, 4 January 1917, Page 9

ROOM 629

I confess that when the;I J astor narrated the story of the Evil Presence to us, some of us at least felt that the climax of the evening had ■,- been I reached. • There ; were just six of tis in the little Maine Rectory, •_ and we had spent the evening pleasantly in telling stories and anecdotes, and in swapping experiences. ; It was an argument over . one of Mgr. Benson's tales, which led us into the field of ghost stories, and the Pastor had told the story of the Evil Presence to :-: establish the fact that the particular story of Benson which was being questioned, was neither impossible nor absurd. .The disputed story had to do with the impression which is made on the ether or on some intangible matter by violent emotion such as generally accompanies murder or suicide. The Pastor argued that an impression can be made on this unknown medium in some such manner as an impression is made on a sensitive photographic plate by light. When lie finished the story of the Evil Presence, which he insisted was true', I confess that .1 for one . was terrified by its horror and mystery, and was glad | that there was as yet no movement on the part of the | company to retire. The Curate, who had argued against | the possibility of such happenings, remained silent for l some time in the face of the facts presented, but ho, I looked unconvinced. K" There was a young priest from Ireland present, who had followed the story with the keenest, interest, and after it had been finished, he remarked that he believed it to be quite true, and that, moreover, he believed that such happenings were not. at all uncommon, lie maintained that even the material social science of the day took cognizance of those things in their theory of environment and its effect on character. - 'Of course,' he observed, ' 1 do not mean that they believe in the spiritual character of these phenomena, but in their theory of the influence of environment there is much which is very similar to the theory illustrated by the Pastor in the story he has just told.' ' If these experiences are. so common,' retorted the Curate, ' it is very peculiar that no one in the present company has experienced them. Even the story that the Pastor has told so realistically is on hearsay evidence.'. ' If you want evidence with regard to these phenomena, read us some of the data which the Society for Psychical Research lias published. Read the investigations of Sir Oliver Lodge and some of the foremost British, American, and Italian scientists— many of them rank materialistsand be convinced.' all bosh, filled with false philosophy from beginning to end. These men are merely groping for the light like moles in obscure cellars, and are shutting their eyes when they are in the face of the noonday sun, which is God's Truth. See what fools some of them are, even the cleverest. They were imposed upon by Palladino, the notorious Italian medium, who was an arch-fakir. Even the celebrated Lombroso himself was fooled. As for me, I .never met any man whom I would consider sound, healthy, and normal, who ever experienced any of these so-called phenomena. They exist chiefly, I believe, in the disordered imagination of hysterical and abnormal people. The only difference between these abnormal people and the people in the insane asylum across the river is that the visions of the so-called sane people are only momentary, while in the case of the insane they are fixed hallucinations.' 'I see, Father, that you're pretty much of a sceptic. Now, would I fall under your concept of a ? .sane and healthy person V iy. The Curate laughed as he looked at the young priest; over six feet tall, handsome and well built. Yes, you could make my football team if I were forming one,' he responded. 'Then, perhaps, Father, you will listen patiently to a little experience I had myself—somewhat along the lines of the story told by the Pastor. I have never told, it before, save only to my confessor, because I

know the world is very sceptical about such things, .and I have' no desire .to be considered a . fool. / : ■ '. ..",..*.„.' -" * '"'- *".-,. ' * ■ • r '<*'\ ' Two ; years ago, I was in Chicago, on my'way West, and I was travelling with another priest who belonged ; to the Leavenworth diocese. We intended to stay, in Chicago only a night to break the long journey, as the weather was warm, and we were both tired /'after the run from New York. Neither of us knew that there was being held in Chicago at the time a convention of a Masonic association, until we found that all the hotels were crowded. We tried two of the largest, and they ctia not have a room/to spare, and when we had received the same answer «t a tnird, 1 said to the clerk, "Can't you find us some sort of a room We are only going to stay one night, and can put up with inconveniences. We are both, fagged, and it'a getting late." / ' The clerk hesitated a few seconds, and then- said slowly, "Yes, I can give you a room— but ——its location is not very desirable. It has not been occupied lor some time. There are two beds in it. If you wish to lake it, I will have it made up immediately.'' v " '"Certainly," 1. said, "we'll take it. Anything at all will do for the. night." .. ' He called the bell boy and said, "Take the gentlemen to six-twenty-nine!" ' •• ' The bell boy looked at the clerk in surprise. ' "Six-twenty-nine?" he asked hesitating. ' "Yes, that's what I said," answered the clerk sharply, tossing the key on the desk. ' The bell boy took it without, a word, and the elevator quickly brought us to the tenth floor. Wo followed the bell boy down the long Corridor, aud came to number six-tweuty-nine. ' The room had evidently been closed for a long time, and I felt that there was some- mystery about an unoccupied room in a crowded hotel. But it was a good large room, with two beds, and wo would bethere only for one night. - ' We went to supper while the room was being prepared, and when we returned and switched on the electric lights, everything looked cheery and bright. We. finished the office, smoked and chatted a little while, and retired early, for we had a long trip ahead of us the next day and planned an early start. * * * ;*■ -x- -x- ------' 1 don't know how it happened, but as soon as the lights were extinguished, I experienced a cold chill, and a certain feeling of indescribable terror took possession of me. The windows were open, and there was a little breeze stirring, but the curtains swayed back and forth so regularly that they seemed to be manipulated by,Jnvisible hands. Once I thought I heard the patter of " feet in the room, and I sat up straight in bed, but I saw nothing, and all was still. 'My nerves, 1 thought were getting unsteady, and I began to try to get sleep by counting sheep, and employing every other device that I could think of. Meanwhile, I could tell by the stentorian breathing of my fellow traveller that he was voyaging safely in the land of Nod. ' Had I been alone, I would have arisen and turned on the electric lights to dispel the haunting shadows that filled the room, but I was ashamed to awaken my companion and admit my fears. A cold breeze blew steadily for an instant, and I fancied that the door opened and shut. I sat up in bed, and stared at its white outline. No one had entered, so far as I could see. My nerves were certainly unstrung, when such vain imaginings could lay hold on me. ■-->. 'I lay down again, blessing myself and resolutely shutting my eyes, resolved to pay no attention whatsoever to all these vain imaginings of an overstrained fancy, when I became conscious of the rocking chair in the room swaying back and. forth. It is true, it stood near the open window, and the breeze might have started it swaying, but I could not persuade myself then or since that this was the cause. During a part of the night it rocked * incessantly. If I had had sufficient- courage, I would have pushed' jt ; away from

the • openy window, for I tried : to persuade myself that '.; "the breeze was causing it to move. -' "' : ~ ' * 'I tried in vain to ',. sleep, and ; found myself how with eyes shut, now with ; 5 eyes Open, staring into the darkness, as I heard the rocking chair move or the floor creak as if some "one walked on it- or the mysterious footstep, soft and light on the rug. : Far below us, the noises of the city gradually died v out. , In the early part of the night I could hear the clang of the, electric cars, the tooting of automobile horns,- the cries of the newsboys, and the thousand and one nocturnal noises of a great city, s Now all was becoming silent. "'I had heard ten strike, and then eleven, and then twelve, and the city was still. Several times I was on the point of dozing off after twelve when one of the mysterious noises within the room would render me once more alert and sleepless. One o'clock struck, and I became aware of a presence in the room. The darkness in one corner seemed to gather, till it achieved a fantastic and threatening shape. Its size was gigantic. It seemed to touch the ceiling. I tried then to call my friend, but my voice failed. I tried to compose myself, to persuade, myself that I did not fear, but I was really frozen with horror. I could no longer persuade myself that the presence was a creation of my imagination. It was really tangibly something objective and external. Once I thought the shadow drew near, and a cold hand passed over my face, but I blessed myself, and it retreated. ' Smaller and smaller it grew, but more and more and more clearly denned. It was assuming figure and and shape and the shape was that of a woman. I could see her face now, but, not clearly for it was turned from me. She was looking toward the door. She wore a long flowing gown of white, luminous and dazzling. ' When she turned toward me I saw that her face was beautiful but distorted with passion. Her hand was raised high above her head and in it there was a ghostly dagger. She turned her eyes toward me and the face took on such a devilishly hateful and malignant look that my blood froze. ' She seemed to advance toward me. > ' Then I found my voice. I shrieked and my friend sat up instantly in bed wide awake. The shade paused and I saw the dagger fall and bury itself in the white bosom. Thej-e was a subdued groan and the sound of a fall and the vision disappeared. •My friend jumped up and turned on the light. I was absolutely unable to move but lay there white and shaken after the terrible experiences of the night. ' After a while I followed my friend's example and arose and dressed. Meanwhile neither of us had uttered a word. Finally, I asked "Did you see it?" 1 "The woman," he said. "Yes, I saw her. What a devilish expression on her face. I shall never forget it." ' Then I observed that his face too was white and that he was trembling. ' We left the accursed room as soon as we could and sat the remainder of the night in the lobby. The night-clerk was all apology when my friend reported to him that we could not sleep in the room. The hotel man admitted that the room was never occupied, and said that he did not understand how it had been given to us; that no one was able to sleep comfortably in it. : 'My friend without narrating our weird experiences asked him what the complaint of others had been and the clerk responded that a young woman had committed suicide in the room some years before under peculiarly tragic circumstances and that the room was believed to be haunted. The clerk added that some people had asserted that they saw the woman in the act of plunging the dagger into her breast, but he observed that these people probably knew the story and were victims of their own imagination. As for himself, he did not believe in it at all. . '"Would you sleep in the room?" queried my friend of the clerk. -•' ,

-i;: / * “I certainly would not>’ he answered, “Not that « • *«*»••?-*•* ; _ USt* 4 w .*f ßT| 1 l«fe T - & agg , I believe in ghosts •at all but. I:_ might . imagine . that X saw things;” , : ' '■■'• ■■. .■ * •>; ‘ ‘‘You might,” we both cordially agreed— left the hotel shortly after for the train.' The sceptical curate was visibly impressed. . ‘ This was a real experience ? You are not romand 1 ing ?’ he queried cautiously. ‘ You are a regular doubting Thomas,’ answered the Irish priest smiling. ‘ I always carry holy water with me now when I travel.’—Joseph Carey, in the Boston Pilot.