The Canterville Ghost | Page 8

he slipped into Mr. Otis's bedroom and carried off the bottle. He
felt a little humiliated at first, but afterwards was sensible enough to see
that there was a great deal to be said for the invention, and, to a certain
degree, it served his purpose. Still in spite of everything he was not left
unmolested. Strings were continually being stretched across the
corridor, over which he tripped in the dark, and on one occasion, while
dressed for the part of "Black Isaac, or the Huntsman of Hogley
Woods," he met with a severe fall, through treading on a butter-slide,
which the twins had constructed from the entrance of the Tapestry
Chamber to the top of the oak staircase. This last insult so enraged him,
that he resolved to make one final effort to assert his dignity and social
position, and determined to visit the insolent young Etonians the next
night in his celebrated character of "Reckless Rupert, or the Headless
Earl."
[Illustration: "A HEAVY JUG OF WATER FELL RIGHT DOWN ON
HIM."]
He had not appeared in this disguise for more than seventy years; in
fact, not since he had so frightened pretty Lady Barbara Modish by
means of it, that she suddenly broke off her engagement with the
present Lord Canterville's grandfather, and ran away to Gretna Green
with handsome Jack Castletown, declaring that nothing in the world
would induce her to marry into a family that allowed such a horrible
phantom to walk up and down the terrace at twilight. Poor Jack was
afterwards shot in a duel by Lord Canterville on Wandsworth Common,
and Lady Barbara died of a broken heart at Tunbridge Wells before the
year was out, so, in every way, it had been a great success. It was,
however an extremely difficult "make-up," if I may use such a
theatrical expression in connection with one of the greatest mysteries of
the supernatural, or, to employ a more scientific term, the
higher-natural world, and it took him fully three hours to make his
preparations. At last everything was ready, and he was very pleased

with his appearance. The big leather riding-boots that went with the
dress were just a little too large for him, and he could only find one of
the two horse-pistols, but, on the whole, he was quite satisfied, and at a
quarter-past one he glided out of the wainscoting and crept down the
corridor. On reaching the room occupied by the twins, which I should
mention was called the Blue Bed Chamber, on account of the colour of
its hangings, he found the door just ajar. Wishing to make an effective
entrance, he flung it wide open, when a heavy jug of water fell right
down on him, wetting him to the skin, and just missing his left shoulder
by a couple of inches. At the same moment he heard stifled shrieks of
laughter proceeding from the four-post bed. The shock to his nervous
system was so great that he fled back to his room as hard as he could go,
and the next day he was laid up with a severe cold. The only thing that
at all consoled him in the whole affair was the fact that he had not
brought his head with him, for, had he done so, the consequences might
have been very serious.
[Illustration: "MAKING SATIRICAL REMARKS ON THE
PHOTOGRAPHS"]
He now gave up all hope of ever frightening this rude American family,
and contented himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in
list slippers, with a thick red muffler round his throat for fear of
draughts, and a small arquebuse, in case he should be attacked by the
twins. The final blow he received occurred on the 19th of September.
He had gone down-stairs to the great entrance-hall, feeling sure that
there, at any rate, he would be quite unmolested, and was amusing
himself by making satirical remarks on the large Saroni photographs of
the United States Minister and his wife which had now taken the place
of the Canterville family pictures. He was simply but neatly clad in a
long shroud, spotted with churchyard mould, had tied up his jaw with a
strip of yellow linen, and carried a small lantern and a sexton's spade.
In fact, he was dressed for the character of "Jonas the Graveless, or the
Corpse-Snatcher of Chertsey Barn," one of his most remarkable
impersonations, and one which the Cantervilles had every reason to
remember, as it was the real origin of their quarrel with their neighbour,
Lord Rufford. It was about a quarter-past two o'clock in the morning,

and, as far as he could ascertain, no one was stirring. As he was
strolling towards the library, however, to see if there were any traces
left of the