Christian life -- Fiction; Clergy -- England -- Fiction; Paranormal fiction; Short stories, English
“As this sentence ended my friend felt a curious sensation run over him,
like those he had experienced in the park, but far stronger. He could
never give me any description of it, except by saying that it seemed as
if a force were laying hold of him in every remote fibre of his bodily
and spiritual being. His own will seemed to give up the control into
some stronger hand, and he felt a sense of being steadied and quieted.
“Then he was aware that his own voice said a single sentence of some
half-dozen words; but though he heard each word, it was instantly
obliterated from his mind. In his description of it all to me
afterwards, he said it was like words that we hear immediately before we
fall asleep in a lecture-room or a railway carriage: each word is
English and intelligible, but the sentence conveys no impression.
“While his voice spoke for perhaps two or three seconds, his eyes were
fixed on Lord B.’s face, and in that momentary interval he saw a
terrible fear and astonishment suddenly stamped upon it. The mouth
opened in loose lines and the cigarette fell out, and B.’s hands rose
instinctively as if to keep my friend off. One of the men, too, at the
further end of the circle suddenly sprang erect, with the same kind of
imploring horror on his face.
“That was all that my friend had time to see; for the same power that
had laid hold of him turned him immediately to the door, and he opened
it and went out and down the corridor. As he went the strange sensation
passed, but he felt the sweat prick to his skin and then pour down his
face. He heard, too, as he reached the end of the corridor, a bell peal
violently somewhere. He passed out into the hall, and even as he opened
the front door a servant dashed past him through the hall and down the
corridor, up which he had just come.
“He went straight home, feeling terribly tired and overwrought, and had
to go to bed on reaching his house, tortured by neuralgia.
“Two hours later a note was brought by a groom from Lord B., written in
a shaking hand, with an abject apology for his reception in the
afternoon; an entreaty to him not to mention the subject again which he
had spoken of in the sitting-room, with a scarcely veiled offer of a
bribe, and an emphatic promise to withdraw all proceedings against A.
“On the following day he was told that Lord B. was supposed to be
unwell, and that the house-party had been hurriedly broken up the night
before.
“From that day to this he has never had an idea of what the sentence was
that his voice spoke that worked such a miracle.”
“That is a most curious story,” I said. “What do you make of it?”
The priest smiled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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