The White Wolf and Other Fireside TalesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
Science
The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Short stories, English
The dark ghost looked at his partner, who shuffled uneasily.
"I told you," said he, "we should have trouble with this fellow.
I had a presentiment of it when he came to spend the night here without
bringing a bull-dog. That frightening of the bull-dog out of his wits
has always been our most effective bit of business."
Hereupon the dark ghost took another tone.
"Our fair but unfortunate victim has a sore throat to-night," he
announced. "The performance is consequently postponed;" and he seated
himself sulkily upon the coffin, when the limelight-man from the wings
promptly bathed him in a flood of the most beautiful rose-colour.
"Oh, this is intolerable!" he exclaimed, starting to his feet.
"It is not first-rate, I agree," said John, "but, such as it is, we had
better go through with it. Should the company doubt its genuineness, I
can go around afterwards and show the brand on the cork." Here he
tapped the leg, which he had been careful to bring with him.
Before this evidence of contract the ghosts' resistance collapsed.
They seated themselves on the coffin and began the casting of dice; the
performance proceeded, but in a half-hearted and perfunctory manner,
notwithstanding the vivacious efforts of the limelight-man.
The tall ghost struck his brow and fled from the stage. There were
cries of "Call him back!" But John explained that this was part of the
drama, and no encores would be allowed; whereupon the audience fell to
hissing the villain, who now sat alone with the most lifelike expression
of malignity.
"Oh, hang it!" he expostulated after a while, "I am doing this under
protest, and you need not make it worse for a fellow. I draw the line
at hissing."
"It's the usual thing," explained John affably.
But when the ghostly lady walked on, and in the act of falling on her
father's body was interrupted by the pianist, who handed up an immense
bouquet, the performers held another hurried colloquy.
"Look here," said the dark-browed villain, stepping forward and
addressing John; "what will you take to call it quits?"
"I'll take," said John, "the key which the lady has just handed you.
And if the treasure is at all commensurate with the fuss you have been
making about it, we'll let bygones be bygones."
Well, it did; and John, having counted it out behind the curtain, came
forward and asked the pianist to play "God save the King"; and so,
having bowed his guests to the door, took possession of the haunted
house and lived in it many years with his bride, in high renown and
prosperity.
THREE PHOTOGRAPHS.
"Photograph all the prisoners? But why?" demanded Sir Felix
Felix-Williams. Old Canon Kempe shrugged his shoulders; Admiral
Trewbody turned the pages of the Home Secretary's letter. They sat at
the baize-covered table in the Magistrates' Room--the last of the
Visiting Justices who met, under the old _regime_, to receive the
Governor's report and look after the welfare of the prisoners in
Tregarrick County Gaol.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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