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The Haunters & The Haunted eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 343 pages of information about The Haunters & The Haunted.
of the “diurnal,” with the date of July 10, 1665:  “How sorely must the infidels and heretics of this generation be dismayed when they know that this Black Death, which is now swallowing its thousands in the streets of the great city, was foretold six months agone, under the exorcisms of a country minister, by a visible and suppliant ghost!  And what pleasures and improvements do such deny themselves who scorn and avoid all opportunity of intercourse with souls separate, and the spirits, glad and sorrowful, which inhabit the unseen world!”

VIII

THE GHOST OF LORD CLARENCEUX

By ARNOLD BENNETT[2]

In the chair which stood before the writing-table in the middle of the room sat the figure of Lord Clarenceux.  The figure did not move as I went in; its back was towards me.  At the other end of the room was the doorway, which led to the small bedroom, little more than an alcove, and the gaze of the apparition was fixed on this doorway.  I closed the door behind me and locked it, and then stood still.  In the looking-glass over the mantelpiece I saw a drawn, pale, agitated face, in which all the trouble in the world seemed to reside; it was my own face.  I was alone in the room with the ghost—­the ghost which, jealous of my love for the woman it had loved, meant to revenge itself by my death.  The ghost, did I say?  I looked at it; no one would have taken it for an apparition.  Small wonder that till the previous evening I had never suspected it to be other than a man.  It was dressed in black; it had the very aspect of life.  I could follow the creases in the black coat, the direction of the nap of the silk hat.  How well by this time I knew the faultless black coat and that impeccable hat!  Yet it seemed that I could not examine them too closely.  I pierced them with the intensity of my fascinated glance.  Yes, I pierced them, for, showing faintly through the coat, I could discern the outline of the table which should have been hidden by the man’s figure, and through the hat I could see the handle of the French window.

As I stood motionless there, solitary in the glow of the electric light with this fearful visitor, I began to wish that it would move.  I wanted to face it—­to meet its gaze with my gaze, eye to eye, and will against will.  The battle between us must start at once, I thought, if I was to have any chance of victory, for, moment by moment, I felt my resolution, my manliness, my mere physical courage slipping away.

But the apparition did not stir.  Impassive, remorseless, sinister, it was content to wait, well aware that all suspense was in its favour.  Then I said to myself that I would cross the room and so attain my object.  I made a step and drew back, frightened by the sound of a creaking board.  Absurd! but it was quite a minute before I dared to move another step.  I had meant to walk straight across to the other door, passing in my course close by the occupied chair.  I did do not so; I kept round by the wall, creeping on tiptoe, and my eye never leaving the figure in the chair.  I did this in spite of myself, and the manner of my action was the first hint of my ultimate defeat.

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