Ghosts and Family Legends: A Volume for ChristmasCrowe, Catherine
General
Ghosts and Family Legends: A Volume for Christmas
Crowe, Catherine
Folklore -- Great Britain; Ghosts -- Great Britain; Legends -- Great Britain
"By the time I had finished my supper it was ten o'clock, and every
thing was prepared for the night. My bed, though an impromptu, was very
comfortable, made of amply stuffed cushions and thick coverlets, placed
in front of the fire. I was provided with light and plenty of wood; and
I had my regimental cutlass, and a case of excellent pistols, which I
carefully primed and loaded in presence of the custodian, saying, you
see I am determined to fire at the ghost, so if he cannot stand a
bullet, he had better not pay me a visit.
"The old man shook his head calmly, but made no answer. Having desired
the courier, who said he should not go to bed, to come up stairs
immediately if he heard the report of fire-arms, I dismissed my people
and locked the doors, barricading each with a heavy ottoman besides.
There was no arras or hangings of any sort behind which a door could be
concealed; and I went round the room, the walls of which were pannelled
with white and gold, knocking every part, but neither the sound, nor
Dido, the dog, gave any indications of there being anything unusual.
Then I undressed and lay down with my sword and my pistols beside me;
and Dido at the foot of my bed, where she always slept.
"I confess I was in a state of pleasing excitement; my curiosity and my
love of adventure were roused; and whether it was ghost, or robber, or
coiner, I was to have a visit from, the interview was likely to be
equally interesting. It was half-past ten when I lay down; my
expectations were too vivid to admit of sleep; and after an attempt at a
French novel, I was obliged to give it up; I could not fix my attention
to it. Besides, my chief care was not to be surprised. I could not help
thinking the custodian and his family had some secret way of getting
into the room, and I hoped to detect them in the fact; so I lay with my
eyes and ears open in a position that gave me a view of every part of
it, till my travelling clock struck twelve, which being pre-eminently
the ghostly hour, I thought the critical moment was arrived. But no, no
sound, no interruption of any sort to the silence and solitude of the
night occurred. When half-past twelve, and one struck, I pretty well
made up my mind that I should be disappointed in my expectations, and
that the ghost, whoever he was, knew better than to encounter Dido and a
brace of well charged pistols; but just as I arrived at this conclusion,
an unaccountable _frisson_ came over me, and I saw Dido, who tired with
her day's journey, had lain till now quietly curled up asleep, begin to
move, and slowly get upon her feet. I thought she was only going to
turn, but, instead of lying down, she stood still with her ears erect
and her head towards the dais, uttering a low growl.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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