A moment of madness, and other stories (vol. 3 of 3)Marryat, Florence
General
A moment of madness, and other stories (vol. 3 of 3)
Marryat, Florence
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
‘Lor’! you never mean “_ghosts_,” sir?’ said the old woman.
‘I do, indeed, Mrs Bizzey. I suppose you believe that spirits (or ghosts,
as you call them) may re-appear after death?’
‘Oh, yes,’ interposed the husband; ‘for I mind the night that my poor
mother lay dying, there was an apparition of a turkey-cock that sat upon
the palings opposite our cottage, and when it fluttered off ’em with a
screech, just for all the world like a real turkey, you know, sir, she
turned on her side suddenly, and give up the ghost. I’ve always believed
in apparitions since then.’
‘And when my sister Jane lay in of her last,’ chimed in Mrs Bizzey,
‘there was a little clock stood on the mantel-shelf that had always been
wound up regular and gone regular ever since she was married; and we was
moving a lot of things to one side, and we moved that clock and found
it had stopped; and the nurse, she said to me, “Mark my words if that’s
not a warning of death;” and, sure enough, Jane died before the morning,
which makes me so careful of moving a clock since then that I’d rather go
three miles round than touch one if a body lay sick in the house.’
‘I see that you both take a most sensible view of the business, and are
fully alive to the importance attached to it,’ I answered; ‘I hope,
therefore, to secure your assistance to find out what these unusual and
mysterious noises in your house portend, and what the authors require us
to do for them.’
Then—whilst the old man scratched his head with bewilderment, and the old
woman looked scared out of her seven senses—I explained to them, as well
as I was able, the nature of a séance, and asked them if they would come
and sit at the table with me that evening and hold one.
‘But, lawk a mussy, sir, you never want to speak to them!’ cried Mrs
Bizzey.
‘How else are we to ascertain for what reason these spirits disturb your
lodgers and render your rooms uninhabitable by their pranks?’
‘I should die of fright before we had been at it five minutes,’ was her
comment; but her husband was pluckier, and took a more practical view of
the matter.
‘You’ll just do as I bid you, missus, and hold your chatter. There’s no
doubt these noises are a great nuisance—not to say a loss—and if this
gentleman will be good enough to try and stop them, and can’t do without
us, I’ll help him for one, and you will for another.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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