Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts: A Book of Stories — John Shaqi
Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts: A Book of StoriesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
General
Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts: A Book of Stories
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories
"'Poor little soul!'
"'Well now'--Mrs. Carkeek rubbed my candlestick with the edge of her
apron--'I'm so glad you take it like this. For there isn't really
nothing to be afraid of--is there?' She eyed me wistfully. 'It's my
belief she loves you, miss. But only to think what a time she must have
had with the others!'
"'The others?' I echoed.
"'The other tenants, miss: the ones afore you.'
"'Were they bad?'
"'They was awful. Didn't Farmer Hosking tell you? They carried on
fearful--one after another, and each one worse than the last."
"'What was the matter with them? Drink?'
"'Drink, miss, with some of 'em. There was the Major--he used to go mad
with it, and run about the coombe in his nightshirt. Oh, scandalous!
And his wife drank too--that is, if she ever _was_ his wife. Just think
of that tender child washing Up after their nasty doings!'
"I shivered.
"'But that wasn't the worst, miss--not by a long way. There was a pair
here--from the colonies, or so they gave out--with two children, a boy
and gel, the eldest scarce six. Poor mites!'
"'Why, what happened?'
"'They beat those children, miss--your blood would boil!--_and_ starved,
_and_ tortured 'em, it's my belief. You could hear their screams, I've
been told, away back in the high-road, and that's the best part of half
a mile. Sometimes they was locked up without food for days together.
But it's my belief that little Miss Margaret managed to feed them
somehow. Oh, I can see her, creeping to the door and comforting!'
"'But perhaps she never showed herself when these awful people were
here, but took to flight until they left.'
"'You didn't never know her, miss. The brave she was! She'd have stood
up to lions. She've been here all the while: and only to think what her
innocent eyes and ears must have took in! There was another couple--'
Mrs. Carkeek sunk her voice.
"'Oh, hush!' said I, 'if I'm to have any peace of mind in this house!'
"'But you won't go, miss? She loves you, I know she do. And think what
you might be leaving her to--what sort of tenant might come next. For
she can't go. She've been here ever since her father sold the place.
He died soon after. You musn't go!'
"Now I had resolved to go, but all of a sudden I felt how mean this
resolution was.
"'After all,' said I, 'there's nothing to be afraid of.'
"'That's it, miss; nothing at all. I don't even believe it's so very
uncommon. Why, I've heard my mother tell of farmhouses where the rooms
were swept every night as regular as clockwork, and the floors sanded,
and the pots and pans scoured, and all while the maids slept. They put
it down to the piskies; but we know better, miss, and now we've got the
secret between us we can lie easy in our beds, and if we hear anything,
say "God bless the child!" and go to sleep.'
"'Mrs. Carkeek,' said I, 'there's only one condition I have to make.'
"'What's that?'
"'Why, that you let me kiss you.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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