The ghost of Charlotte Cray, and other storiesMarryat, Florence
Science
The ghost of Charlotte Cray, and other stories
Marryat, Florence
English fiction -- 19th century; Ghost stories, English; Short stories, English
“Lor’! you never mean ‘_ghosts_,’ sir?” said the old woman.
“I do, indeed, Mrs. Bizzey. I suppose you believe that spirits (or
ghosts, as you call them) may re-appear after death?”
“Oh, yes,” interposed the husband; “for I mind the night that my poor
mother lay dying, there was an apparition of a turkey-cock that sat
upon the palings opposite our cottage, and when it fluttered off ’em
with a screech, just for all the world like a real turkey, you know,
sir, she turned on her side suddenly, and give up the ghost. I’ve
always believed in apparitions since then.”
“And when my sister Jane lay in of her last,” chimed in Mrs. Bizzey,
“there was a little clock stood on the mantel-shelf that had always
been wound up regular and gone regular ever since she was married; and
we was moving a lot of things to one side, and we moved that clock and
found it had stopped; and the nurse, she said to me, ‘Mark my words if
that’s not a warning of death;’ and, sure enough, Jane died before the
morning, which makes me so careful of moving a clock since then that
I’d rather go three miles round than touch one if a body lay sick in
the house.”
“I see that you both take a most sensible view of the business, and
are fully alive to the importance attached to it,” I answered; “I
hope, therefore, to secure your assistance to find out what these
unusual and mysterious noises in your house portend, and what the
authors require us to do for them.”
Then--whilst the old man scratched his head with bewilderment, and the
old woman looked scared out of her seven senses--I explained to them,
as well as I was able, the nature of a séance, and asked them if they
would come and sit at the table with me that evening and hold one.
“But, lawk a mussy, sir, you never want to speak to them!” cried Mrs.
Bizzey.
“How else are we to ascertain for what reason these spirits disturb
your lodgers and render your rooms uninhabitable by their pranks?”
“I should die of fright before we had been at it five minutes,” was
her comment; but her husband was pluckier, and took a more practical
view of the matter.
“You’ll just do as I bid you, missus, and hold your chatter. There’s
no doubt these noises are a great nuisance--not to say a loss--and if
this gentleman will be good enough to try and stop them, and can’t do
without us, I’ll help him for one, and you will for another.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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