England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
He thanked me, and passing me, again raising his hat, walked quickly
along the road, down which I was about to retrace my steps.
I waited a moment or two, and then followed him at a more leisurely
pace. But I had not gone more than a hundred yards or so when I saw
again his figure emerging from the gloom before me. In spite of myself
I felt a little afraid. The modern ghost is so very material and
commonplace in appearance, by all accounts, that one may easily mistake
it for a real flesh and blood personality.
"Can this path be haunted?" I asked myself, and as the stranger came
nearer I involuntarily shrank up a little towards the wall.
But as he was passing, the cheerful tones of his voice dispelled my
misgivings. He made an almost imperceptible pause in his quick pace,
exclaiming--
"I have found it! So sorry to have troubled you!" then hurried on,
doubtless to enter the grounds at the same spot whence he had emerged,
and where my common-sense told me there must be a door of some kind.
"I shall make Isabel come this way to-morrow to look for it," I said to
myself, and I hurried home, eager to relate to her my exciting
adventure.
She was looking out for me, walking up and down the drive.
"I could have come with you if you had waited five minutes. Papa only
wanted me for a moment or two, after all. It is rather too dark for you
to be out alone, and I didn't know which way you had gone," she said.
"O Isabel!" I exclaimed. "Something so interesting has happened;" and
I quickly related the incident, my friend listening attentively.
"Was it a Grey or a ghost?" I ended up half jokingly, but Isabel's face
was full of grave consideration.
"I never _heard_ of a ghost in or about the Grim House," she said
seriously. "But still less can I think it was one of the Grey brothers.
The elder one is _quite_ old-looking, peculiarly worn and haggard, and
the other, as I have told you, though he has a sweet, calm face, is an
unmistakable cripple. He walks very slowly, and generally with a
crutch."
"It is very mysterious, then," I replied, "though I shall not feel
satisfied that it was not the elder brother till I have seen him for
myself on Sunday. Do let me sit where I can have a good view of them,
Isabel. I promise you I will peep at them most discreetly."
Isabel smiled, but seemed nevertheless a little disapproving.
"I hope they won't occupy your thoughts during the whole of
church-time," she said.
"No, no," I replied. "Of course I wouldn't let it be so. Though
naturally what has happened this evening makes me more anxious than ever
to see them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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