Gentlemen, said I, with a slight cocking of the chin, and a bad
attempt at a smile, this is all very pleasant—ha! ha!—very
pleasant—but I’d have you know I am as little superstitious as
any of you—ha! ha!—and as to anything like timidity—you may
smile, gentlemen—but I trust there is no one here means to
insinuate that.—As to a room’s being haunted, I repeat,
gentlemen—(growing a little warm at seeing a cursed grin breaking
out round me)—as to a room’s being haunted, I have as little
faith in such silly stories as any one. But, since you put the
matter home to me, I will say that I have met with something in
my room strange and inexplicable to me—(a shout of laughter).
Gentlemen, I am serious—I know well what I am saying—I am calm,
gentlemen, (striking my flat upon the table)—by heaven I am calm.
I am neither trifling, nor do I wish to be trifled with—(the
laughter of the company suppressed with ludicrous attempts at
gravity). There is a picture in the room in which I was put last
night, that has had an effect upon me the most singular and
incomprehensible.
“A picture!” said the old gentleman with the haunted head. “A
picture!” cried the narrator with the waggish nose. “A picture! a
picture!” echoed several voices. Here there was an ungovernable
peal of laughter.
I could not contain myself. I started up from my seat—looked
round on the company with fiery indignation—thrust both my hands
into my pockets, and strode up to one of the windows, as though I
would have walked through it. I stopped short; looked out upon
the landscape without distinguishing a feature of it; and felt my
gorge rising almost to suffocation.
Mine host saw it was time to interfere. He had maintained an air
of Gravity through the whole of the scene, and now stepped forth
as if to shelter me from the overwhelming merriment of my
companions.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “I dislike to spoil sport, but you have had
your laugh, and the joke of the haunted chamber has been enjoyed.
I must now take the part of my guest. I must not only vindicate
him from your pleasantries, but I must reconcile him to himself,
for I suspect he is a little out of humor with his own feelings;
and above all, I must crave his pardon for having made him the
subject of a kind of experiment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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