J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 3: The Haunted Baronet (1871)Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
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J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 3: The Haunted Baronet (1871)
Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
Ghost stories
The solitude and grandeur of the forest, and the repulsive gloom of his
companion's countenance and demeanour, communicated a tone of anxiety to
Sir Bale; and they stood still, side by side, in total silence for a
time, looking toward the forest glades; between themselves and which, on
the level sward of the valley, stood many a noble tree and fantastic
group of forked birch and thorn, in the irregular formations into which
Nature had thrown them.
"Now you stand between the letters. Cast your eyes on the stone," said
Feltram suddenly, and his low stern tones almost startled the Baronet.
Looking round, he perceived that he had so placed himself that his point
of vision was exactly from between the two great letters, now
half-obliterated, which he had been scrutinizing just as he turned about
to look toward the forest of Cloostedd.
"Yes, so I am," said Sir Bale.
There was within him an excitement and misgiving, akin to the sensation
of a man going into battle, and which corresponded with the pale and
sombre frown which Feltram wore, and the manifest change which had come
over him.
"Look on the stone steadily for a time, and tell me if you see a black
mark, about the size of your hand, anywhere upon its surface," said
Feltram.
Sir Bale affected no airs of scepticism now; his imagination was
stirred, and a sense of some unknown reality at the bottom of that which
he had affected to treat before as illusion, inspired a strange interest
in the experiment.
"Do you see it?" asked Feltram.
Sir Bale was watching patiently, but he had observed nothing of the
kind.
Sharper, darker, more eager grew the face of Philip Feltram, as his eyes
traversed the surface of that huge horizontal block.
"Now?" asked Feltram again.
No, he had seen nothing.
Feltram was growing manifestly uneasy, angry almost; he walked away a
little, and back again, and then two or three times round the tree, with
his hands shut, and treading the ground like a man trying to warm his
feet, and so impatiently he returned, and looked again on the stone.
Sir Bale was still looking, and very soon said, drawing his brows
together and looking hard,
"Ha!--yes--hush. There it is, by Jove!--wait--yes--there; it is growing
quite plain."
It seemed not as if a shadow fell upon the stone, but rather as if the
stone became semi-transparent, and just under its surface was something
dark--a hand, he thought it--and darker and darker it grew, as if coming
up toward the surface, and after some little wavering, it fixed itself
movelessly, pointing, as he thought, toward the forest.
"It looks like a hand," said he. "By Jove, it is a hand--pointing
towards the forest with a finger."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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