THE PHANTOM COACH: Collected Ghost Stories

by Amelia B. Edwards

  The sun was low in the heavens, and I was thoroughly exhausted by the mental and physical exertions of the day. I doubted whether it would be possible for me to reach the coast before sunset; and I stood in great need of food and rest. The shade and silence of the woods—the springy moss, offering a natural carpet to my feet—the cocoa-nuts and fragrant berries all around, were temptations not to be resisted; so I decided to spend the night in the forest, and proceeded to choose my lodging. A snug bank at the foot of a clump of banana and cocoa trees was soon found; and here, with a pile of cocoa-nuts by my side, my precious bundle at my feet, and my scimitar lying ready to my hand, I lay down, ate a hearty supper, and settled myself for the night.

  The sun went down upon the silence of the forest. Not a bird twittered—not a monkey chattered—not an insect hummed near. Then came darkness and the southern stars; and I fell into a profound sleep.

  I awoke next morning with the dawn; breakfasted on a cocoa-nut, drank the milk of two or three others; and set off, compass in hand, towards the coast. As I went along, I remembered all at once, with a sense of shame at having forgotten it till then, that it was the morning of Christmas-day, which, though summer-time out here in this tropical latitude, was a wintry epoch enough far away in England among those who loved me! Christmas-day, when the quiet grey-turreted church in my native village would be garlanded with holly; when many a true heart would ache for my absence; when many a prayer for my safety would be whispered as the Litany was read; and my health be drunk loudly at the Christmas-feast! And I—what had I been doing all this time? Lost in ambitious dreams, had I given a single thought to those who gave so many thoughts to me? Had I longed for wealth, and dared danger and death, to share my riches with them and make them happy? My heart smote me at these questions, and I brushed away two or three remorseful tears. I saw how selfish had been my aims, and soothed my conscience with a number of good resolutions, all of which were to be carried out when I returned to England with a shipload of jewels and gold.

  Absorbed in these wholesome reflections, I traversed the mazes of the forest, crossed the flowery savannah, and threaded the majestic glades of the cocoa-woods that lay nearest the shore. Emerging, by-and-by, in sight of the beach and the sea, I saw, to my surprise and satisfaction, the Mary-Jane lying close up against the cliffs, in a little rocky cove not half a mile away. The next instant, I had scrambled down the cliff as recklessly as if it had been a mere slope of smooth lawn, and was running towards the ship at my utmost speed, only pausing every now and then to shout and wave my hat, in case any of the crew were on the lookout for me. No answering shout, however, bade me welcome. Not a head appeared above the ship’s side. Not even a pennant fluttered from the mast-head. Had the crew deserted the Mary-Jane, and gone up the island in search of treasure for themselves?

  At this thought I ran on again, breathless, but very angry. As I drew nearer, however, my anger gave place to a kind of terrified bewilderment. I hesitated—ran forward again—stood still—trembled—could not believe the evidence of my eyes; for at every step the aspect of the Mary-Jane grew more strange and startling.

  She was lying high and dry upon the beach—a wreck! Her shrouds were hanging in shreds; her hull was clustered thick with barnacles; her sails were white with mould; her anchor, broken and covered with rust, lay some yards off, half buried in the sand. Could she be the same little schooner that I had left only yesterday, as trim and stout as when she was turned out of the builder’s yard? Was that indeed her name still visible in letters half effaced? Was I mad or dreaming?

  I had now come up close under her bulwarks. I walked slowly round and round her, three or four times, quite dumb and stupefied. It was impossible that she could be the same ship. Her build, her size, her name, it is true, seemed precisely those of my little schooner; but common sense, and the testimony of my own reason, forbade me to believe that twenty-four hours could have done the work of twenty-four years. Here was a vessel that had been deserted for perhaps a quarter of a century, and had rotted where it lay. It was a coincidence—a strange, dramatic, incredible coincidence—nothing more.

  I looked round for some means of clambering on board this ruin, and succeeded in finding the end of a broken chain. It hung rather short, but I caught it by a leap, and hauled myself up, hand over hand. In another moment I stood upon her deck. The timbers of that deck were all gaping and rotten, and overgrown with rank fungi. A sea-bird had built its nest in the binnacle. Some smaller nests, deserted and gone to wreck like the ship herself, clung to the rotten shrouds. One boat yet hung in its place, by ropes that looked as if a touch would break them to tinder. The other boat—just precisely the small one which would have been missing if this were indeed all that remained of the Mary-Jane—was gone from its moorings.

  Curiosity, and something deeper than mere curiosity, took me down the crazy stairs, and into the captain’s cabin. It was a foot deep in water, and all the furniture was rotting away. The table yet held together, though spotted all over with white mould; the chairs had fallen to pieces, and were lying in the water. The paper was hanging in black rags from the walls, and the presses looked ready to fall on the head of anyone who should venture to approach them.

  I looked round, amazed, upon this scene of desolation. Strange! Dilapidated and disfigured as the place was, it yet bore a weird and unaccountable resemblance to my own cabin on board the Mary-Jane. My wardrobe stood in that corner of the cabin, just as this did. My berth occupied the recess beside the stove, just as this did. My table stood in the same spot, under the window, just as this did. I could not comprehend it!

  I turned to the table and tried the drawers, but the locks were rusty, and the wood had swollen with the damp, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that I broke away the surrounding woodwork, and wrenched them out. They were filled with mildewed parchments, bundles of letters, pens, account-books, and such other trifles. In one corner lay a mouldy looking-glass in a sliding cover. I recognised the little thing at once—recognised it undeniably, positively. It had been given to me by my mother when I was a boy, and I had never parted with it. I snatched it up with a hand that trembled as if I had the ague. I caught sight of my own face reflected upon its scarred surface.

  To my terror, I saw that my beard and hair were no longer chestnut brown, but almost white.

  The glass fell from my grasp, and was shattered to fragments upon the wet floor. Merciful Heaven! what spell was upon me? What had happened to me? What strange calamity had befallen my ship? Where were my crew? Grey—grey and old in one short day and night? My ship a ruin, my youth a dream, myself the sport of some mysterious destiny, the like of which no man had ever known before!

  I gathered the papers together from the table drawers, and staggered up on deck with them like a drunken man. There I sat down, stupefied, not knowing what to think or do. A frightful gulf seemed to lie between me and the past. Yesterday I was young—yesterday I left my ship, with hope in my heart, and brown locks upon my head; today, I am a middle-aged man—today, I find my ship rotting on a desolate beach, the hair white upon my brow, and the future all a blank! Mechanically I untied one of the packets of letters. The outer ones were so discoloured that no writing remained visible upon them. They were mere folds of damp brown tinder, and fell to shreds as I unfolded them. Only two, which lay protected in the middle of the packet, were yet legible. I opened them. One was from my mother, the other from Bessie Robinson. I remembered so well when I read them last. It was the evening before that misty night when I met the Adventure with her cargo of gold and jewels. Fatal night! Accursed ship! Accursed, and thrice accursed wealth, that had tempted me from my duty, and dragged me to destruction!

  I read the letters through—at least, all that was legible of them—and my tears fell fast the while. When I had read them a second time, I fell upon my knees and prayed to God to deliver me. After this, I felt somewhat calmer, and having laid the papers carefully aside, began to think what I should do to escape fr
om my captivity.

  My first thought was of my crew. The men would seem to have abandoned the Mary-Jane. Everything on board, so far as I could perceive, though rotting away, was untouched. There were no signs of plunder; neither had they taken the ship’s last boat, in any attempt to put to sea on their own account. I looked down into the hold, and saw the great packing-cases lying half under water apparently undisturbed since the hour when I left the vessel. Surely, then, the men must have landed and gone up the island. In that case, where were they? How long had they been gone? What time had gone by since we parted? Was it possible that they could be all lost—or dead? Was I absolutely and utterly alone in this unknown island: and was it my fate to live and die here, like a dog? Alas! alas! of what use were diamonds and gold to me, if this were the price at which I was to purchase them?

  With these bitter reflections pressing on my mind, I roused myself by a great effort, and resolved that my first step should be to institute a thorough search for my men along the coast. In order to do this, it was necessary that I should find myself some place of temporary habitation, either in the wreck or on the shore, to which I could retire at night. Also that I should lay up a store of provisions for my daily use. I likewise determined to set up some kind of signals, here and there, along the cliffs, to guide the men to me, if they were yet wandering about the island. My bundle of jewels, too, needed to be placed in a secure spot, lest any strange ship should find its way into the bay, and other treasure-seekers lay hands upon it.

  I looked round about me at the rotting timbers and the leaky cabin, and shuddered at the notion of passing a night on board the Mary-Jane. The ship looked as if it must be phantom-haunted. It was, at all events, too remarkable an object to be a secure storehouse for my treasures, in case of the arrival of strangers. It was the first place they would ransack. Altogether, I felt it would be safer and pleasanter to stow myself and my jewels in some cavern along the cliffs. I had seen plenty on my way, and I determined to set off at once in search of what I wanted. So I went down again into the cabin to look for some weapon to carry with me, and having found a rusty marling-spike and cutlass still hanging where I had left them behind the door, thrust them into my belt, slung my bundle over my shoulder, let myself down over the ship’s side, and started for a walk under the cliffs.

  I had not gone far before I found just the spot I wanted. It was a deep cavern, about three feet above the level of the beach, the mouth of which was almost hidden by an angle of rock, and was quite invisible from some little distance. The inside of the cave was smooth, and carpeted with soft white sand. The walls were dry, and tapestried here and there with velvety lichens. In short, it was precisely such a retreat as best accorded with my present purposes. I took possession of it at once, by stowing away my bundle of jewels on a sort of natural shelf at the remotest end of the cave. I then traced a great cross in the sand before the entrance, that I might find my lodging again without difficulty, and went out to seek something in the shape of food and firewood.

  The first easy path up the face of the cliffs brought me to the outskirts of the palm forests. I climbed the nearest tree, and flung down about twenty nuts. They were by no means such fine nuts as those farther in amid the woods; but I had taken a kind of superstitious horror of the interior of the island, and had no mind now to venture one step farther than was necessary. I then carried my nuts to the edge of the cliff, and rolled them over. By these means, I saved myself the labour of carrying them down, and had only to pick them up from the beach, and store them in the cave, close under the shelf where I had hidden my jewels. By this time, in spite of my trouble, I was very hungry; but the sun was bending westward, and I was anxious to make another excursion to the ship before nightfall; so I promised myself that I would dine and sup together by-and-by, and so proceeded once more in the direction of the Mary-Jane.

  What I wanted now was, if it were possible to find them, a couple of blankets, a hatchet to break up my cocoa-nuts, a bottle of some kind of spirits, and a piece of tarpaulin to hang at night before the entrance to my cavern. I hauled myself up again by the cable-chain, and went down into the cabin. I found my bed a mere shelf-full of rotten rags. If I hoped to find blankets anywhere, it must be among the ship’s stores, in some place more protected from the damp. I forced open the locker in which I used to keep spirits. Here I was fortunate enough to discover two unopened cases of fine French brandy, apparently quite unspoiled. These I at once carried upon deck, and then let myself down into the hold. There I found several pieces of tolerably sound tarpaulin, and some packing-cases on the top, which seemed comparatively dry. One of these, which I knew by the marks yet visible on the cover, ought to contain many valuable necessaries, I prised open with my marling-spike, and found filled with blankets, rugs, and other woollen goods. They were damp, and spotted with mildew, but not rotten. I made two great bundles of the best that I could find, and laid them beside the spirit-cases, on the deck. Searching still farther, I came upon a box of carpenter’s tools, an old horn-lantern with about an inch of candle left in it, a small chopper, and a bag of rusty nails. There were plenty of barrels of ship’s biscuits, pork, gunpowder, and flour in sight; but as they were all more or less immersed in water, I knew it would be mere waste of time to inspect their contents. Besides, the sun was now declining fast, and I was anxious to carry all that I could to my cavern before the sudden tropical night should come.

  I then made three loads of my blankets, tarpaulins, spirit-cases, tools, and so forth; lowered them over the ship’s side one by one; and in three journeys conveyed them all to my cave before sunset. I had, even then, time to transport thither some large pieces of timber, the fragments probably of former wrecks, which were lying strewn about the beach. With these I made a good fire, which lighted up the inside of my dwelling, and enabled me to make myself quite comfortable for the night. To spread a warm bed of rugs and blankets, to nail up a large tarpaulin before my door, and to make an excellent supper of cocoa-nuts, cocoa-milk, and a little brandy, were the occupations of my evening. As my fire began to burn low, I wrapped myself in my blankets, murmured a short prayer for safety and forgiveness, and fell sound asleep.

  I woke next morning with the sunrise, and started directly after breakfast upon my first expedition in search of the crew of the Mary-Jane. All that day I travelled along the margin of the bay in a north-west and westerly direction, stopping every now and then to pile up a little cairn of loose stones that might serve as a signal. I returned to my cavern at dusk, having seen no sign of human footsteps or human habitation in any direction, and having walked, first and last, a good twenty miles at the least. This time I brought home some more firewood, and about half a bushel of mussels, which I had found clustered on the low rocks by the sea. I ate the mussels uncooked for my supper, and, having a famous appetite thought it the most delicious dish I had ever tasted.

  The next day, and the next again, and for many days after that, I persevered in my search, trying first north, and then east and south, and finding no trace of my crew. Wherever I went, I raised cairns along the beach and on the edges of the cliffs; and once or twice even laboured to carry up a piece of broken mast and a scrap of ragged canvas to some little headland, and so raised a kind of humble flagstaff where I thought it might be seen conspicuously from either sea or shore. I often stopped in these voluntary tasks, to sit down and shed a torrent of bitter tears. At night I amused myself by shaping my cocoa shells into drinking-cups and basins, and fitting up my cave with shelves and other little conveniences. I contrived, too, to vary my diet with cockles, mussels, and occasionally a young turtle, when I was so fortunate as to find one on the beach. These I ate sometimes boiled and sometimes roasted; and as I grew very weary of so much cocoa-milk, I brought a leathern bucket from the wreck, and used to fetch myself fresh water from a spring about half a mile from home. I likewise searched out a kettle, a couple of hatchets, a pea-jacket but little the worse for damp, two or three pairs of shoes, a chest containi
ng some uninjured stores of sugar and spices, some more cases of wine and spirits, and various other articles, all of which contributed essentially to my comfort.

  I also found one or two Bibles; but these were so much spoiled that no more than twenty or thirty leaves were legible in each. As these were not, however, the same in each book, I found I had between seventy and eighty readable leaves—in all, about one hundred and fifty-five pages printed in double columns; the perusal and possession of which proved a great blessing to me in my lonely situation, and gave me strength, many and many a time, to bear my trial with fortitude, when I should otherwise have sunk into utter despair.

  Thus a long time passed. I took no regular account of the weeks; but perhaps as many as fourteen or fifteen may have gone by in this manner. I devoted at first every day, then about four days, and at last not more than one or two days in each week, to the prosecution of my apparently hopeless search. At last I found that I had explored all that part of the island which lay immediately round about my cavern for a distance of at least twelve miles in all directions. I could now do no more, unless I shifted the centre of my observations, or undertook a regular tour of the coast. After some deliberation I decided upon the latter course, and, having furnished myself with a flask of brandy, a blanket tightly strapped up like a soldier’s knapsack, a hatchet, cutlass, compass, telescope, tinder-box, and staff, started one morning upon my journey.