A Changed Man and Other Tales | Page 4

a smooth bland surface in
touch with a busy and fashionable world.
To the barracks aforesaid had recently arrived the --th Hussars, a
regiment new to the locality. Almost before any acquaintance with its
members had been made by the townspeople, a report spread that they
were a 'crack' body of men, and had brought a splendid band. For some
reason or other the town had not been used as the headquarters of
cavalry for many years, the various troops stationed there having
consisted of casual detachments only; so that it was with a sense of
honour that everybody--even the small furniture- broker from whom
the married troopers hired tables and chairs-- received the news of their
crack quality.
In those days the Hussar regiments still wore over the left shoulder that
attractive attachment, or frilled half-coat, hanging loosely behind like
the wounded wing of a bird, which was called the pelisse, though it was
known among the troopers themselves as a 'sling- jacket.' It added
amazingly to their picturesqueness in women's eyes, and, indeed, in the
eyes of men also.
The burgher who lived in the house with the oriel window sat during a
great many hours of the day in that projection, for he was an invalid,
and time hung heavily on his hands unless he maintained a constant
interest in proceedings without. Not more than a week after the arrival
of the Hussars his ears were assailed by the shout of one schoolboy to
another in the street below.
'Have 'ee heard this about the Hussars? They are haunted! Yes--a ghost
troubles 'em; he has followed 'em about the world for years.'
A haunted regiment: that was a new idea for either invalid or stalwart.
The listener in the oriel came to the conclusion that there were some
lively characters among the --th Hussars.
He made Captain Maumbry's acquaintance in an informal manner at an
afternoon tea to which he went in a wheeled chair--one of the very rare
outings that the state of his health permitted. Maumbry showed himself
to be a handsome man of twenty-eight or thirty, with an attractive hint
of wickedness in his manner that was sure to make him adorable with

good young women. The large dark eyes that lit his pale face expressed
this wickedness strongly, though such was the adaptability of their rays
that one could think they might have expressed sadness or seriousness
just as readily, if he had had a mind for such.
An old and deaf lady who was present asked Captain Maumbry bluntly:
'What's this we hear about you? They say your regiment is haunted.'
The Captain's face assumed an aspect of grave, even sad, concern.
'Yes,' he replied, 'it is too true.'
Some younger ladies smiled till they saw how serious he looked, when
they looked serious likewise.
'Really?' said the old lady.
'Yes. We naturally don't wish to say much about it.'
'No, no; of course not. But--how haunted?'
'Well; the--THING, as I'll call it, follows us. In country quarters or
town, abroad or at home, it's just the same.'
'How do you account for it?'
'H'm.' Maumbry lowered his voice. 'Some crime committed by certain
of our regiment in past years, we suppose.'
'Dear me . . . How very horrid, and singular!'
'But, as I said, we don't speak of it much.'
'No . . . no.'
When the Hussar was gone, a young lady, disclosing a long-suppressed
interest, asked if the ghost had been seen by any of the town.
The lawyer's son, who always had the latest borough news, said that,
though it was seldom seen by any one but the Hussars themselves,
more than one townsman and woman had already set eyes on it, to his
or her terror. The phantom mostly appeared very late at night, under the
dense trees of the town-avenue nearest the barracks. It was about ten
feet high; its teeth chattered with a dry naked sound, as if they were
those of a skeleton; and its hip-bones could be heard grating in their
sockets.
During the darkest weeks of winter several timid persons were
seriously frightened by the object answering to this cheerful description,
and the police began to look into the matter. Whereupon the
appearances grew less frequent, and some of the Boys of the regiment
thankfully stated that they had not been so free from ghostly visitation
for years as they had become since their arrival in Casterbridge.

This playing at ghosts was the most innocent of the amusements
indulged in by the choice young spirits who inhabited the lichened,
red-brick building at the top of the town bearing 'W.D.' and a broad
arrow on its quoins. Far more serious escapades--levities relating to
love, wine, cards, betting--were talked of, with no doubt more or