Nick Carter Stories No. 146, June 26, 1915: Paying the Price; or, Nick Carter's Perilous VentureCarter, Nicholas (House name)
General
Nick Carter Stories No. 146, June 26, 1915: Paying the Price; or, Nick Carter's Perilous Venture
Carter, Nicholas (House name)
Detective and mystery stories, American -- Periodicals; Popular literature -- Periodicals
“You may judge I was somewhat startled at the apparition, yet being
curious to see for myself what further would happen, I sat immovable for
the period of--it may have been--fifteen minutes, when I was both
shocked and horrified to see the figure return, with the same noiseless
tread, clutching the dagger in its hand; while the drapery, the hand,
and the dagger itself were now covered with stains of blood. Before
replacing it, however, the figure wiped the blade upon its dress, and
left thereon a most ghastly and appalling stain. Then, with a
significant, almost noiseless laugh, it withdrew as it had come. If I
was startled at first, you may judge that the ‘creepy’ sensation was not
a little augmented by the second appearance, and I had come to no
satisfactory solution of the matter, when my friend, returning, entered
the hall, and burst into an excited account of his afternoon’s sport.
“That night I questioned the family as to the ghostly visitor, but found
that the house was quite free from any such tradition, not even
possessing, as most old country houses do, a haunted chamber; and the
family were as much astonished at my vision as I was myself. They had
never heard of any such apparition, and for some time stoutly held that
I had fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing. Finally it was agreed
that on the following day Herbert and I should watch together, and
accordingly, at the same hour next day, we stationed ourselves in the
chimney recess to await events; but we waited in vain.
“Three days we watched thus, and for three days I endured the
good-natured banter of the whole family; but on the fourth
day--Christmas Eve--our patience was rewarded, for scarcely had we
settled into comfortable shape, when the ghost walked. Never shall I
forget my companion’s face as the door opened, disclosing the form
swathed in white. Hitherto he had been skeptical, and was the most
aggressive of my many tormentors; yet I can now see how his eyes became
fixed and his ruddy face paled before the dimly outlined form, which,
with many a sidelong, cautious glance, neared the spot it had visited
when I first observed it. So still and deathlike was the silence, that
the crackling of the log startled us, and I believe we both felt as
though ‘our each particular hair’ was standing on end, as the white arm
of the figure drew out the dagger from its sheath; it certainly is true
we drew breath more easily when the door was once more closed. Still, we
were determined to unravel the mystery, and so with tremulous steps we
followed our unearthly visitant. Herbert was familiar with the passage
along which we hurried, through a concealed door, into a large
courtyard, from which the various outbuildings were entered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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