The ghost of Charlotte Cray, and other stories
the question then, but I do not feel so disposed to laugh at it now;
and I am going to beg him to tell me all he may know. If nothing more,
his story may form the stratum of a curious psychological study. Would
you like to be present at our interview?”
“Oh yes, Arthur; I have quite recovered my nerves since I’ve lost
sight of Rushmere, and I feel even curious to learn all I can upon the
subject. That poor, sobbing voice that whispered ‘Emily’--I shall not
forget its sound to my dying day.”
“Ring the bell, dear, and let us ask if the landlord is at leisure. To
my mind, your experience of the details of this little tragedy appears
the most interesting of all.”
The landlord, a Mr. Browser, entered at once; and as soon as he heard
my request, made himself completely at home with us.
“After the little rebuff you gave me t’other day, I shouldn’t have
ventured to say nothing, sir; but when I see your family getting out
of the fly this afternoon, I says to Mrs. Browser, ‘If that don’t mean
that they can’t stand Rushmere another night, I’m a pumpkin.’ And I
suppose, now, it did mean it, sir?”
“You are quite right, Mr. Browser. The noises and voices about the
house have become so intolerable, that it is quite impossible I can
keep my family there. Still, I must tell you that, though I have been
unable to account for the disturbances, I do not necessarily believe
they are attributable to spirits. It is because I do not believe so
that I wish to hear all you may be able to tell us, in order, if
possible, to find a reason for what appears at present to be
unreasonable.”
“Well, sir, you shall hear, as you say, all we have to tell you, and
then you can believe what you like. But it ain’t I as can relate the
story, sir. Mrs. Browser knows a deal more than I do; and with your
leave, and that of this good lady here, I’ll call her to give you the
history of Rushmere.”
At this information, we displayed an amount of interest that resulted
in a hasty summons for Mrs. Browser. She was a fat, fair woman, of
middle age, with ruddy cheeks, and a clear blue eye--not at all like a
creature haunted by her own weak imagination, or who would be likely
to mistake a shadow for a substance. Her appearance inspired me with
confidence. I trusted that her relation might furnish me with some
clue to the solution of the occurrences that had so confounded us.
Safe out of the precincts of Rushmere, and with the lapse of twelve
hours since the unaccountable swoon I had been seized with, my
practical virtues were once more in the ascendant, and I was inclined
to attribute our fright to anything but association with the
marvellous.
“Be I to tell the story from the beginning, Browser?” was the first
sentence that dropped from Mrs. Browser’s lips.
Her lord and master nodded an affirmative, whereupon she began:--
“When the gentleman as built Rushmere for his own gratification, sir,
died, the house let well enough. But the place proved lonely, and
there was more than one attempt at robbery, and people grew tired of
taking it. And above all, the girls of the village began to refuse to
go to service there. Well, it had been standing empty for some months,
when a gentleman and his wife came to look after it. Browser and I--we
didn’t own this inn at that time, you will understand, sir, but kept a
general shop in the village, and were but poorly off altogether,
although we had the post-office at our place, and did the best
business thereabouts. The key of Rushmere used always to be left in
our keeping, too, and our boy would go up to show folks over the
house. Well, one damp autumn day--I mind the day as if ’twere
yesterday, for Browser had been ailing sadly with the rheumatics for
weeks past, and not able to lift his hand to his head--this gentleman
and lady, who went by the name of Greenslade, came for the keys of
Rushmere. I remember thinking Mr. Greenslade had a nasty, curious look
about his eyes, and that his wife seemed a poor, brow-beaten creature;
but that was no business of mine, and I sent Bill up with them to show
the house. They took it, and entered on possession at once; and then
came the difficulty about the servants. Not a soul would enter the
place at first. Then a girl or two tried it, and came away when their
month was up, saying the house was so lonesome, they couldn’t sleep at
nights, and the master was so queer-spoken and mannered, they were
afraid of him.”
“Don’t forget to say what he was used to do at nights,” here put in
the landlord.
“La, Browser, I’m a-coming to it. Everything in its time. Well, sir,
at last it came to this, that Mrs. Greenslade hadn’t a creature to
help her in anythink, and down she came to ask if I would go to them
for a few days. I stared; for there was the shop to be tended, and the
post-office looked after, and I hadn’t been used to odd jobs like
that. But my husband said that he could do all that was wanted in the
business; and we were very hard drove just then, and the lady offered
such liberal pay, he over-persuaded me to go, if only on trial. So I
put my pride in my pocket, and went out charing. I hadn’t been at
Rushmere many days, sir, before I found something was very wrong
there. Mr. Greenslade hardly ever spoke a word, but shut himself up in
a room all day, or went mooning about the fields and common, where he
couldn’t meet a soul; and as for the poor lady, la! my heart bled for
her, she seemed so wretched and broken-down and hopeless. I used often
to say to her--
“‘Now, ma’am, do let me cook you a bit of something nice, for you’ve
eaten nothing since yesterday, and you’ll bring yourself down to
death’s door at this rate.’
“And she’d answer,--
“‘No, thank you, Mrs. Browser: I couldn’t touch it. I feel sometimes
as if I’d never care to eat or drink again.’
“And Mr. Greenslade, he was just as bad. They didn’t eat enough to
keep a well-grown child between the two of them.”
“What-aged people were they?” I asked.
“Well, sir, I can hardly say; they weren’t young nor yet old. Mr.
Greenslade, he may have been about fifty, and his lady a year or two
younger; but I never took much count of that. But the gentleman looked
much the oldest of the two, by reason of a stoop in his shoulders and
a constant cough that seemed to tear his chest to pieces. I’ve known
him shut himself up in the parlour the whole night long, coughing away
fit to keep the whole house awake. And his breathing, sir--you could
hear it half a mile off.”
“He was _assmatical_, poor man! that’s where it was,” interposed Mr.
Browser.
“Well, I don’t know what his complaint was called, Browser; but he
made noise enough over it to wake the dead. But don’t you go
interrupting me no more after that fashion, or the gentleman and lady
will never understand the half of my story, and I’m just coming to the
cream of it.”
“I assure you we are deeply interested in what you are telling us,” I
said, politely.
“It’s very good of you to compliment me, sir, but I expect it will
make matters clearer to you by-and-by. You’re not the first tenants of
Rushmere I’ve had to tell this tale to, I can tell you, and you won’t
be the last, either. One night, when I couldn’t sleep for his nasty
cough, and lay awake, wishing to goodness he’d go to bed like a
Christian, I made sure I heard footsteps in the hall, a-creeping and
a-creeping about like, as though some one was feeling their way round
the house. ‘It can’t be the mistress,’ I thought, ‘and maybe it’s
robbers, as have little idea the master’s shut up in the study.’ So I
opened the door quickly, but I could see nothing.”
“Exactly my own experience,” I exclaimed.
“Ah, sir, maybe; but they weren’t the same footsteps, poor dear. I
wish they had been, and she had the same power to tread now she had
then. The hall was empty; but at the same time I heard the master
groaning and cursing most awful in the parlour, and I went into my own
room again, that I mightn’t listen to his wicked oaths and words. I
always hated and distrusted that man from the beginning. The next day
I mentioned I had heard footsteps, before ’em both, and the rage Mr.
Greenslade put himself into was terrible. He said no robbers had
better break into his house, or he’d shoot them dead as dogs.
Afterwards his wife came to me and asked me what sort of footsteps
they seemed; and when I told her, she cried upon my neck, and begged
me if I ever heard a woman’s step to say nothing of it to her husband.
“‘A woman’s step, ma’am,’ I replied; ‘why, what woman would dare break
into a house?’
“But she only cried the more, and held her tongue.
“But that evening I heard their voices loud in the parlour, and there
was a regular dispute between them.
“‘If ever she could come, Henry,’ Mrs. Greenslade said, ‘promise me
you won’t speak to her unless you can say words of pity or of
comfort.’
“‘Pity!’ he yelled, ‘what pity has she had for me? If ever she or any
emissary of hers should dare to set foot upon these premises, I shall
treat them as house-breakers, and shoot them down like dogs.’
“‘Oh no! Henry, no!’ screamed the poor woman; ‘think who she is. Think
of her youth, her temptation, and forgive her.’
“‘I’ll never forgive her--I’ll never own her,’ the wretch answered
loudly; ‘but I’ll treat her, or any of the cursed crew she associates
with, as I would treat strangers who forced their way in to rob me by
night. ’Twill be an evil day for them when they attempt to set foot in
my house.’
“Well, sir, I must cut this long story short, or you and your good
lady will never get to bed to-night.
“The conversation I had overheard made me feel very uncomfortable, and
I was certain some great misfortune or disgrace had happened to the
parties I was serving; but I didn’t let it rest upon my mind, till a
few nights after, when I was wakened up by the same sound of creeping
footsteps along the passage. As I sat up in bed and listened to them,
I heard the master leave the parlour and go upstairs. At the same
moment something crouched beside my door, and tried to turn the
handle; but it was locked, and wouldn’t open. I felt very uneasy. I
knew my door stood in the shadow, and that whoever crouched there must
have been hidden from Mr. Greenslade as he walked across the hall.
Presently I heard his footsteps coming downstairs again, as though he
had forgotten something. He used to wear such thick boots, sir, you
might hear his step all over the house. His loaded gun always stood on
the first landing; when he reached there he stopped, I suppose it was
his bad angel made him stop. Anyway, there was a low cry of ‘Father,
father!’--a rush, the report of the gun, a low groan, and then all was
still.
“La! sir, I trembled so in my bed, you might have seen it shake under
me.”
“I’ve seen it shake under you many a time,” said Browser.
“Perhaps you would like to tell the lady and gentleman my exact
weight, though I don’t see what that’s got to do with the story,”
replied his better half, majestically.
“I don’t think I should ever have had the courage to leave my room,
sir, unless I had heard my poor mistress fly down the staircase, with
a loud scream. Then I got up, and joined her. Oh, it was an awful
sight! There, stretched on the floorcloth, lay the dead body of a
young girl; and my mistress had fainted dead away across her, and was
covered with the blood that was pouring from a great hole in her
forehead. On the landing stood my master, white as a sheet, and
shaking like an aspen leaf.
“‘So, this is your doing!’ I cried, angrily. ‘You’re a nice man to
have charge of a gun. Do you see what you’ve done? Killed a poor girl
in mistake for a robber, and nearly killed your wife into the bargain.
Who is this poor murdered young creature? Do you know her?’