The Canterville Ghost | Page 5

chameleon-like colour, also, of the stain excited a
good deal of comment. Some mornings it was a dull (almost Indian)
red, then it would be vermilion, then a rich purple, and once when they
came down for family prayers, according to the simple rites of the Free
American Reformed Episcopalian Church, they found it a bright
emerald-green. These kaleidoscopic changes naturally amused the party
very much, and bets on the subject were freely made every evening.
The only person who did not enter into the joke was little Virginia, who,
for some unexplained reason, was always a good deal distressed at the
sight of the blood-stain, and very nearly cried the morning it was
emerald-green.
The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday night. Shortly after
they had gone to bed they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful crash in
the hall. Rushing down-stairs, they found that a large suit of old armour
had become detached from its stand, and had fallen on the stone floor,
while seated in a high-backed chair was the Canterville ghost, rubbing
his knees with an expression of acute agony on his face. The twins,
having brought their pea-shooters with them, at once discharged two
pellets on him, with that accuracy of aim which can only be attained by
long and careful practice on a writing-master, while the United States
Minister covered him with his revolver, and called upon him, in
accordance with Californian etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost
started up with a wild shriek of rage, and swept through them like a
mist, extinguishing Washington Otis's candle as he passed, and so
leaving them all in total darkness. On reaching the top of the staircase
he recovered himself, and determined to give his celebrated peal of
demoniac laughter. This he had on more than one occasion found

extremely useful. It was said to have turned Lord Raker's wig grey in a
single night, and had certainly made three of Lady Canterville's French
governesses give warning before their month was up. He accordingly
laughed his most horrible laugh, till the old vaulted roof rang and rang
again, but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a door opened,
and Mrs. Otis came out in a light blue dressing-gown. "I am afraid you
are far from well," she said, "and have brought you a bottle of Doctor
Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you will find it a most excellent
remedy." The ghost glared at her in fury, and began at once to make
preparations for turning himself into a large black dog, an
accomplishment for which he was justly renowned, and to which the
family doctor always attributed the permanent idiocy of Lord
Canterville's uncle, the Hon. Thomas Horton. The sound of
approaching footsteps, however, made him hesitate in his fell purpose,
so he contented himself with becoming faintly phosphorescent, and
vanished with a deep churchyard groan, just as the twins had come up
to him.
[Illustration: "THE TWINS ... AT ONCE DISCHARGED TWO
PELLETS ON HIM"]
On reaching his room he entirely broke down, and became a prey to the
most violent agitation. The vulgarity of the twins, and the gross
materialism of Mrs. Otis, were naturally extremely annoying, but what
really distressed him most was that he had been unable to wear the suit
of mail. He had hoped that even modern Americans would be thrilled
by the sight of a Spectre in armour, if for no more sensible reason, at
least out of respect for their natural poet Longfellow, over whose
graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a
weary hour when the Cantervilles were up in town. Besides it was his
own suit. He had worn it with great success at the Kenilworth
tournament, and had been highly complimented on it by no less a
person than the Virgin Queen herself. Yet when he had put it on, he had
been completely overpowered by the weight of the huge breastplate and
steel casque, and had fallen heavily on the stone pavement, barking
both his knees severely, and bruising the knuckles of his right hand.

For some days after this he was extremely ill, and hardly stirred out of
his room at all, except to keep the blood-stain in proper repair.
However, by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and resolved to
make a third attempt to frighten the United States Minister and his
family. He selected Friday, August 17th, for his appearance, and spent
most of that day in looking over his wardrobe, ultimately deciding in
favour of a large slouched hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet frilled
at the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger. Towards evening a violent
storm of rain came on, and the wind was so high that