Two Ghostly Mysteries: A Chapter in the History of a Tyrone Family; and the Murdered CousinLe Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
Science
Two Ghostly Mysteries: A Chapter in the History of a Tyrone Family; and the Murdered Cousin
Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan
Ghost stories; Ireland -- Fiction
I must then die tamely and without an effort to defend myself. A
thought suddenly struck me; might it not be possible to escape through
the door, which the assassin must open in order to enter the room?
I resolved to make the attempt. I felt assured that the door through
which ingress to the room would be effected was that which opened
upon the lobby. It was the more direct way, besides being, for obvious
reasons, less liable to interruption than the other. I resolved, then,
to place myself behind a projection of the wall, the shadow would
serve fully to conceal me, and when the door should be opened, and
before they should have discovered the identity of the occupant of
the bed, to creep noiselessly from the room, and then to trust to
Providence for escape. In order to facilitate this scheme, I removed
all the lumber which I had heaped against the door; and I had
nearly completed my arrangements, when I perceived the room suddenly
darkened, by the close approach of some shadowy object to the window.
On turning my eyes in that direction, I observed at the top of the
casement, as if suspended from above, first the feet, then the legs,
then the body, and at length the whole figure of a man present itself.
It was Edward Tyrrell. He appeared to be guiding his descent so as to
bring his feet upon the centre of the stone block which occupied the
lower part of the window; and having secured his footing upon this, he
kneeled down and began to gaze into the room. As the moon was gleaming
into the chamber, and the bed-curtains were drawn, he was able to
distinguish the bed itself and its contents. He appeared satisfied
with his scrutiny, for he looked up and made a sign with his hand.
He then applied his hands to the window-frame, which must have
been ingeniously contrived for the purpose, for with apparently no
resistance the whole frame, containing casement and all, slipped from
its position in the wall, and was by him lowered into the room. The
cold night wind waved the bed-curtains, and he paused for a moment;
all was still again, and he stepped in upon the floor of the room.
He held in his hand what appeared to be a steel instrument, shaped
something like a long hammer. This he held rather behind him, while,
with three long, _tip-toe_ strides, he brought himself to the bedside.
I felt that the discovery must now be made, and held my breath in
momentary expectation of the execration in which he would vent his
surprise and disappointment. I closed my eyes; there was a pause, but
it was a short one. I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession;
a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy breathing of the sleeper
was for ever suspended. I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer fling
the quilt across the head of his victim; he then, with the instrument
of death still in his hand, proceeded to the lobby-door, upon which
he tapped sharply twice or thrice. A quick step was then heard
approaching, and a voice whispered something from without. Edward
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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