They return at evening : $b A book of ghost storiesWakefield, Herbert Russell
Science
They return at evening : $b A book of ghost stories
Wakefield, Herbert Russell
Ghost stories, English
“I expect you wonder, sir, why I didn’t take it for granted it was
D.T.s--delirium tremens I should have said, sir, and fetched a doctor,
and I often thought of it, but the master was not drinking so heavily
now as before the trouble began. Then again the doctor would have
probably come during the day, and found the master almost himself.
Besides, I don’t believe he would have seen a doctor, he always hated
and despised them.”
“You didn’t think it _was_ drink, then?” he asked.
“I didn’t know what to think. You see, sir, there was that Sound.”
“I wonder you could stick it.”
“Well, sir, I did long to go, but if Mrs. Miles could put up with it
I could, and I felt I had to stand by the master in the bad time. I
was quite attached to him, sir, and I shouldn’t have felt right about
leaving him in the lurch. I tried to get him to go up to London and
stay at the club, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
“There began to be a lot of talk in the neighbourhood, for the maids
said things before they left, and all the villagers and local people
round were certain it had something to do with Black Jack. He had never
been seen since that night his dog was killed, but he was believed to
be somewhere about. It was a funny thing the local people had a curious
knowledge when he was about, and they were always right.
“The master got worse and worse. He couldn’t seem to stay in the house
after dark unless I was with him. He’d be out all night in the grounds,
and I’d sometimes catch a sight of him crouching and hiding, and
sometimes he’d come running back as if something was after him. He took
to sleeping heavily during the day, but he had bad dreams then, and he
said some funny things in his sleep.
“I felt he must be getting near the end of his tether.
“When the Judge came down I never for a moment believed he would
attempt to entertain him, but, to my dismay, sir, he insisted, and
asked thirty people to meet him. Of course, I had to get a lot of help
down from London. The only good thing about it was, I felt, that some
of the gentlemen might see what a state he was in and help me to do
something for it.
“It was a terrible evening. The Sound was wicked that night. The hired
chaps got the wind up, sir, as soon as it began, and kept asking what
the hell it was, and several of them tried to slip away. It made all
the guests nervous and uneasy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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