A moment of madness, and other stories (vol. 2 of 3)Marryat, Florence
General
A moment of madness, and other stories (vol. 2 of 3)
Marryat, Florence
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
Dark and mysterious though it appeared to be, I did not dream of
ascribing the circumstance to any but a natural cause. But there was
evidently no time for hesitation, and in another moment I had flown down
the stairs, and stood in the moonlighted hall. It was empty! Chairs,
table, hatstand, stood in their accustomed places; the children’s garden
hats and my fishing tackle were strewn about; but of animated nature
there was not a sign, of the recent scuffle not a trace!
All was quiet, calm, and undisturbed, and, as I gazed around in mute
bewilderment, the perspiration stood in thick drops upon my brow and chin.
My first collected thought was for my wife and the best means by which
to prevent her sharing the mystification and dread which I have no
hesitation in confessing that I now experienced; but as I turned to
remount the staircase, I caught sight of some dark mass lying at the
further end of the passage, and going up to it, found to my surprise the
body of Dawson, cold and insensible.
The explanation of the mystery was before me—so I immediately determined.
The man, whom I knew to be replete with superstitious terror, imagining
he heard the unaccountable noise of footsteps, had evidently supplied
that which had reached my ear, and in his alarm at my approach had
discharged his firearm at the supposed marauder. Pleasant for me if he
had taken a better aim: So I thought as I dragged his unconscious body
into his bedroom, and busied myself by restoring it to sensation.
As soon as he opened his eyes, and was sufficiently recovered to answer
me, I asked,—
‘What on earth made you discharge your gun, Dawson? I must take it out of
your keeping, if your are so careless about using it.’
‘I didn’t fire, sir.’
‘Nonsense! you don’t know what you are talking about. I heard the shot
distinctly as I came downstairs.’
‘I am only telling you the truth, sir. There is the fowling-piece in that
corner. I have not drawn the trigger since you last loaded it.’
I went up and examined the weapon. What Dawson had said was correct. It
had not been used.
‘Then who did fire?’ I said, impatiently. ‘I could swear to having heard
the report.’
‘And so could I, sir. It was that that knocked me over.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, sir, pray take the mistress and the children away from this place
as soon as possible. It’s no robbers that go up and down these stairs of
nights, sir. It’s something much worse than that.’
‘Dawson, if you begin to talk such folly to me, I’ll discharge you on
the spot. I believe the whole lot of you have gone mad.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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