The Fifth Ghost Story Megapack 25 Classic Haunts

by Wildside Press

  Here her voice dropped and her lips were white, as thrusting aside the folds she pointed to the stains on the floor beneath. “There,” she said, “is my blood;” and letting go the curtains she loosened her gown and showed a deep and ugly scar upon her breast, and even as she did so, a dagger, dislodged by her sudden action from among the weapons on the wall above, slipped from its holdings and fell between them with a terrible rattling sound. So she stooped, and picking it up looked steadfastly upon it. “It is the same,” she said. “Ah, God! that night, and the long days that went before, and the long years that have followed after! Is there any mercy or any justice in Heaven?”

  But the girl put no faith in her, and the thoughts which had been in her mind that day when the fog had fallen on the waters returned to her, so that she gave no heed to threats or pleadings, and the anguish of the other’s soul moved her to scorn only and laughter, for the story of her house was as a fable to her, and when her mother called on her to stay the curse, and stretched out her hands in her praying, she called to mind the witchlike moving weeds below the Serpent’s Head, and she remembered her dream, and how she had felt the fingers of her mother on her heart. Then too, she remembered how she had been delivered in her need, and turning to go she answered, “I will not die, but live. I will be stronger than thou.”

  But the mother said, “Not so; yet if you will do this deed, you shall first ask your father’s blessing;” and as she said this she laughed, and the girl felt that her laughter was more to be dreaded than any threats.

  So now, they two went forth, and crossing the court, came to the broken flight of steps which led up to the Chamber on the Wall. When they had mounted these, they stood before an ancient door heavily bound with iron. Then the mother knocked, and was answered, and entered, and the girl, though she was stricken with fear, followed her in silence. But when she had come into the presence of her father, a great compassion filled her heart, and her eyes were drawn to the subtle appeal of his. “Has she told you,” he said, “that I am mad? I am not mad, my little child, it is she;” and here his voice took on an accent of infinite pathos; “it is she, who was once all the world to me, who has abandoned me and left me desolate. Ah! for God’s sake take me home! Come back to me, my wife! Give me love! Yet, how should any love such as I am?”

  And as he pleaded thus, turning from one to the other, the girl, seeing his chains, thought shame of her mother, and with reproach on her tongue, she made to go forward as though she would have embraced him. But her words died on her lips, for looking on her mother’s face she saw that it was as the face of one inspired, and even as she was about to advance towards him, her mother put her on one side, and saying, “Lord God! Take my life if by this means it is Thy will that this plague be stayed,” she put herself within his reach, and kneeling down close to him folded her arms on her breast. Then, before the girl was aware of his purpose, he had her mother in his grip, and before any aid could come near she was dead.

  All that night long, the girl watched alone by the body of her mother in the tower, and a great struggle went on in her mind as she began to see the meaning of her mother’s act, and at daybreak, the spell upon her was so strong, that as she saw the grey light of dawn she rose, and falling on her knees beside the bed she folded her arms on her breast, and it seemed as if she, too, were about to dedicate her life that so the curse of her house might be stayed. But the chamber windows fronted the east, and even as she lifted, her face to heaven the first rays of the morning sun flushed the sky, and caught the crests of the waves, and the path of light on the waters went by the Serpent’s Head and changed its black to gold. At this sight, the girl started to her feet, and throwing wide the windows, “I will not die!” she said. “Is there no other way?” Even as she asked this question, she answered it with another. “Why should my seed live?” and as she spoke thus, turning to leave the room she saw her own face in the glass, and it was as the face of her father. Then her gaze became fixed, and presently she whispered to herself and smiled. And turning her back upon the corpse she went swiftly to seek her lover on the rocks.

  Not long after this the father died, and the girl married her lover, and the castle, which had so long seemed like a vast and empty shell, overflowed with life. And all things prospered with her, only of all the children born to her not one lived. And many said it was best so, seeing that their inheritance, all fair to outward seeming, had so dark a spot within; but the husband was ill content, for most of all he desired a son that should bear his name, and his wife was angered at this, for she thought, “Why should not I be sufficient for him? What need has he of child or heir when I am near?” And her passion for him was spiced with jealousy, and when once more she became with child and saw the hope in his eyes, she set herself to cheat it. Nor by any means could she be persuaded to value rest, or to live in such wise as was deemed fitting; and now at dusk the hoofs of her horses would be heard in mad gallop along the causeway, or at early dawn she would be seen battling with the crested waters off the Serpent’s Head.

  Between her and her husband there were high words, and he reproached her, and swore there was purpose in her folly; then she caught him and held him, crying, “Why should this devil’s brat come between us! You are all the world to me. Am I less to you?” and she would have kissed him, but there was that in her passion which filled him with loathing, and thrusting her from him he said, “Are you mad?” After he had said this he repented himself, but she answered him nothing, only her face blanched. And from this day forward, she was very gentle, nor did she cross his will in any way, nor even once did she return to the Serpent’s Head; only sitting in the tower chamber there, where her mother had so often sat before her, she watched the waves beating on the rocks. And her husband, wishing to feel her mind, said “The day will come when you will be there again;” and she smiled as she answered, “Ay! the day will come.”

  Yet, though she was so gentle, he felt that there was wrong between them, and when the child was born, his great joy was poisoned by fear lest it should displease her, and he watched to see if there should be any change in her manner or in her look; but he could find none, till one day he, having taken the child in his arms, looked up suddenly, and thought he saw a gleam of malice in her eyes, yet this faded into smiles so swiftly, that after, when he recalled her look, he misdoubted that which he had seen.

  Shortly after this, she and her child were missed from the castle, and it was late evening; so fearing he knew not what, the husband looked from the windows to the rocks, and there he descried her, seated on the Serpent’s Head, with her little one on her knee. The tide was coming in fast, and dumb with anguish and terror, he made haste to reach the shore; but the way seemed long to him, and even when he drew near to her he scarce dared to approach her, for his fears shaped themselves as he ran, and became one agony of terror for his child’s life, and he thought, “If I come upon her unawares, she may cast him into the sea.” But she, though her back was turned to him, was aware of his coming, and she rose to her feet and faced him, still holding her child in her arms, whilst he, wading, and often slipping and stumbling, made his way slowly to her.

  And as he drew close, he saw that she wore the little blue gown in which she was wont to bathe, and her golden hair was loose about her neck as when he had seen her first, and her feet were bare, and a smile was on her face as she kissed the child in her arms as if it were very dear. Then calling and moaning out to him she cried, “My mother’s hand is heavy on me; oh! my love, save me! Her hand is heavy on the child, and her arms are stretching from the waves to seize us. Ah! my love, save us!” And now he had almost laid his hands upon her, when she, thrusting the little one from her, shrieked, “Take your devil’s brat, I will have none of it!” And he saw that his child was dead.

  At this, he made as though he would have seized her, but before he could lay hands on her she had him by the throat, nor could any strength of his av
ail to unloose her fingers; as he struggled with her thus, he felt the crag rock beneath his feet, and between his teeth he cursed the day that had brought him thither to mix his blood with that of her demon blood.

  But neither to curse nor to pray could then avail him. The tide came on, nor was there any help from land or sea. And the great waves leapt high above them, and her lingers tightened on him, and her lips clung to his mouth, so that gasping for breath he stamped in his fury with his foot. Then was the great crag loosened utterly from its hold; for a moment, it hung above the abyss below; next, with a steady roll and a sound as of thunder, it plunged into the seething waters. In the gathering night, a cloud of spray arose to heaven; then the waves rolled on to the shore, and neither in ebb nor flow can any man find where the Serpent’s Head has made the grave of its ghastly burden. But the plague of that house was stayed in the land.

  THE DEAD MAN OF VARLEY GRANGE, by Anonymous

  “Hallo, Jack! Where are you off to? Going down to the governor’s place for Christmas?”

  Jack Darent, who was in my old regiment, stood drawing on his doeskin gloves upon the 23rd of December the year before last. He was equipped in a long ulster and top hat, and a hansom, already loaded with a gun-case and portmanteau, stood awaiting him. He had a tall, strong figure, a fair, fresh-looking face, and the merriest blue eyes in the world. He held a cigarette between his lips, and late as was the season of the year there was a flower in his buttonhole. When did I ever see handsome Jack Darent and he did not look well dressed and well fed and jaunty? As I ran up the steps of the Club he turned round and laughed merrily.

  “My dear fellow, do I look the sort of man to be victimized at a family Christmas meeting? Do you know the kind of business they have at home? Three maiden aunts and a bachelor uncle, my eldest brother and his insipid wife, and all my sister’s six noisy children at dinner. Church twice a day, and snapdragon between the services! No, thank you! I have a great affection for my old parents, but you don’t catch me going in for that sort of national festival!”

  “You irreverent ruffian!” I replied, laughing. “Ah, if you were a married man…”

  “Ah, if I were a married man!” replied Captain Darent with something that was almost a sigh, and then lowering his voice, he said hurriedly, “How is Miss Lester, Fred?”

  “My sister is quite well, thank you,” I answered with becoming gravity; and it was not without a spice of malice that I added, “She has been going to a great many balls and enjoying herself very much.”

  Captain Darent looked profoundly miserable.

  “I don’t see how a poor fellow in a marching regiment, a younger son too, with nothing in the future to look to, is ever to marry nowadays,” he said almost savagely; “when girls, too, are used to so much luxury and extravagance that they can’t live without it. Matrimony is at a deadlock in this century, Fred, chiefly owing to the price of butcher’s meat and bonnets. In fifty years’ time it will become extinct and the country be depopulated. But I must be off, old man, or I shall miss my train.”

  “You have never told me where you are going to, Jack.”

  “Oh, I am going to stay with old Henderson, in Westernshire; he has taken a furnished house, with some first-rate pheasant shooting, for a year. There are seven of us going—all bachelors, and all kindred spirits. We shall shoot all day and smoke half the night. Think what you have lost, old fellow, by becoming a Benedick!”

  “In Westernshire, is it?” I inquired. “Whereabouts is this place, and what is the name of it? For I am a Westernshire man by birth myself, and I know every place in the county.”

  “Oh, it’s a tumbledown sort of old house, I believe,” answered Jack carelessly. “Gables and twisted chimneys outside, and uncomfortable spindle-legged furniture inside—you know the sort of thing; but the shooting is capital, Henderson says, and we must put up with our quarters. He has taken his French cook down, and plenty of liquor, so I’ve no doubt we shan’t starve.”

  “Well, but what is the name of it?” I persisted, with a growing interest in the subject.

  “Let me see,” referring to a letter he pulled out of his pocket. “Oh, here it is — Varley Grange.”

  “Varley Grange!” I repeated, aghast. “Why, it has not been inhabited for years.”

  “I believe not,” answered Jack unconcernedly. “The shooting has been let separately; but Henderson took a fancy to the house too and thought it would do for him, furniture and all, just as it is. My dear Fred, what are you looking so solemnly at me for?”

  “Jack, let me entreat of you not to go to this place,” I said, laying my hands on his arm.

  “Not go! Why, Lester, you must be mad! Why on earth shouldn’t I go there?”

  “There are stories — uncomfortable things said of that house.” I had not the moral courage to say, “It is haunted,” and I felt myself how weak and childish was my attempt to deter him from his intended visit; only — I knew all about Varley Grange.

  I think handsome Jack Darent thought privately that I was slightly out of my senses, for I am sure I looked unaccountably upset and dismayed by the mention of the name of the house that Mr Henderson had taken.

  “I dare say it’s cold and draughty and infested with rats and mice,” he said laughingly; “and I have no doubt the creature-comforts will not be equal to Queen’s Gate; but I stand pledged to go now, and I must be off this very minute, so have no time, old fellow, to inquire into the meaning of your sensational warning. Goodbye, and… and remember me to the ladies.”

  He ran down the steps and jumped into the hansom.

  “Write to me if you have time!” I cried out after him; but I don’t think he heard me in the rattle of the departing cab. He nodded and smiled at me and was swiftly whirled out of sight.

  * * * *

  As for me, I walked slowly back to my comfortable house in Queen’s Gate. There was my wife presiding at the little five o’clock tea-table, our two fat, pink and white little children tumbling about upon the hearthrug amongst dolls and bricks, and two utterly spoilt and over-fed pugs; and my sister Bella—who, between ourselves, was the prettiest as well as dearest girl in all London—sitting on the floor in her handsome brown, velvet gown, resigning herself gracefully to be trampled upon by the dogs, and to have her hair pulled by the babies.

  “Why, Fred, you look as if you had heard bad news,” said my wife, looking up anxiously as I entered.

  “I don’t know that I have heard of anything very bad; I have just seen Jack Darent off for Christmas,” I said, turning instinctively towards my sister. He was a poor man and a younger son, and of course a very bad match for the beautiful Miss Lester; but for all that I had an inkling that Bella was not quite indifferent to her brother’s friend.

  “Oh!” says that hypocrite. “Shall I give you a cup of tea, Fred!”

  It is wonderful how women can control their faces and pretend not to care a straw when they hear the name of their lover mentioned. I think Bella overdid it, she looked so supremely indifferent.

  “Where on earth do you suppose he is going to stay, Bella?”

  “Who? Oh, Captain Darent! How should I possibly know where he is going? Archie, pet, please don’t poke the doll’s head quite down Ponto’s throat; I know he will bite it off if you do.”

  This last observation was addressed to my son and heir.

  “Well, I think you will be surprised when you hear: he is going to Westernshire, to stay at Varley Grange.”

  “What!” No doubt about her interest in the subject now! Miss Lester turned as white as her collar and sprang to her feet impetuously, scattering dogs, babies and toys in all directions away from her skirts as she rose.

  “You cannot mean it, Fred! Varley Grange, why, it has not been inhabited for ten years; and the last time—Oh, do you remember those poor people who took it? What a terrible
story it has!”

  She shuddered.

  “Well, it is taken now,” I said, “by a man I know, called Henderson — a bachelor; he has asked down a party of men for a week’s shooting, and Jack Darent is one of them.”

  “For Heaven’s sake prevent him from going!” cried Bella, clasping her hands.

  “My dear, he is gone!”

  “Oh, then write to him — telegraph — tell him to come back!” she urged breathlessly.

  “I am afraid it is no use,” I said gravely. “He would not come back; he would not believe me; he would think I was mad.”

  “Did you tell him anything?” she asked faintly.

  “No, I had not time. I did say a word or two, but he began to laugh.”

  “Yes, that is how it always is!” she said distractedly. “People laugh and pooh-pooh the whole thing, and then they go there and see for themselves, and it is too late!”

  She was so thoroughly upset that she left the room. My wife turned to me in astonishment; not being a Westernshire woman, she was not well up in the traditions of that venerable county.