The Canterville Ghost | Page 3

words than a terrible flash of lightning lit up the sombre room, a fearful
peal of thunder made them all start to their feet, and Mrs. Umney
fainted.
"What a monstrous climate!" said the American Minister, calmly, as he
lit a long cheroot. "I guess the old country is so overpopulated that they
have not enough decent weather for everybody. I have always been of
opinion that emigration is the only thing for England."
"My dear Hiram," cried Mrs. Otis, "what can we do with a woman who
faints?"
"Charge it to her like breakages," answered the Minister; "she won't
faint after that;" and in a few moments Mrs. Umney certainly came to.
There was no doubt, however, that she was extremely upset, and she
sternly warned Mr. Otis to beware of some trouble coming to the
house.
"I have seen things with my own eyes, sir," she said, "that would make
any Christian's hair stand on end, and many and many a night I have
not closed my eyes in sleep for the awful things that are done here." Mr.
Otis, however, and his wife warmly assured the honest soul that they
were not afraid of ghosts, and, after invoking the blessings of
Providence on her new master and mistress, and making arrangements
for an increase of salary, the old housekeeper tottered off to her own
room.

II
The storm raged fiercely all that night, but nothing of particular note
occurred. The next morning, however, when they came down to
breakfast, they found the terrible stain of blood once again on the floor.
"I don't think it can be the fault of the Paragon Detergent," said
Washington, "for I have tried it with everything. It must be the ghost."

He accordingly rubbed out the stain a second time, but the second
morning it appeared again. The third morning also it was there, though
the library had been locked up at night by Mr. Otis himself, and the key
carried up-stairs. The whole family were now quite interested; Mr. Otis
began to suspect that he had been too dogmatic in his denial of the
existence of ghosts, Mrs. Otis expressed her intention of joining the
Psychical Society, and Washington prepared a long letter to Messrs.
Myers and Podmore on the subject of the Permanence of Sanguineous
Stains when connected with Crime. That night all doubts about the
objective existence of phantasmata were removed for ever.
The day had been warm and sunny; and, in the cool of the evening, the
whole family went out to drive. They did not return home till nine
o'clock, when they had a light supper. The conversation in no way
turned upon ghosts, so there were not even those primary conditions of
receptive expectations which so often precede the presentation of
psychical phenomena. The subjects discussed, as I have since learned
from Mr. Otis, were merely such as form the ordinary conversation of
cultured Americans of the better class, such as the immense superiority
of Miss Fanny Devonport over Sarah Bernhardt as an actress; the
difficulty of obtaining green corn, buckwheat cakes, and hominy, even
in the best English houses; the importance of Boston in the
development of the world-soul; the advantages of the baggage-check
system in railway travelling; and the sweetness of the New York accent
as compared to the London drawl. No mention at all was made of the
supernatural, nor was Sir Simon de Canterville alluded to in any way.
At eleven o'clock the family retired, and by half-past all the lights were
out. Some time after, Mr. Otis was awakened by a curious noise in the
corridor, outside his room. It sounded like the clank of metal, and
seemed to be coming nearer every moment. He got up at once, struck a
match, and looked at the time. It was exactly one o'clock. He was quite
calm, and felt his pulse, which was not at all feverish. The strange noise
still continued, and with it he heard distinctly the sound of footsteps.
He put on his slippers, took a small oblong phial out of his
dressing-case, and opened the door. Right in front of him he saw, in the
wan moonlight, an old man of terrible aspect. His eyes were as red
burning coals; long grey hair fell over his shoulders in matted coils; his

garments, which were of antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and from
his wrists and ankles hung heavy manacles and rusty gyves.
"My dear sir," said Mr. Otis, "I really must insist on your oiling those
chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small bottle of the
Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely efficacious
upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that effect on
the wrapper from some of