The Ghost of Jerry Bundler | Page 3

round to L. nervously.)
That night soon after he had gone to bed, a couple of Bow Street
runners, the predecessors of our present detective force turned up here.
They had followed him from London, but had lost scent a bit, so didn't
arrive till late. A word to the landlord, whose description of the stranger
who had retired to rest, pointed to the fact that he was the man they
were after, of course enlisted his aid and that of the male servants and
stable hands. The officers crept quietly up to Jerry's bedroom and tried
the door, it wouldn't budge. It was of heavy oak and bolted from within.
(OMNES lean forward, showing interest.)
Leaving his comrade and a couple of grooms to guard the bedroom
door, the other officer went into the yard, and, procuring a short ladder,
by this means reached the window of the room in which Jerry was
sleeping. The Inn servants and stable hands saw him get on to the sill
and try to open the window. Suddenly there was a crash of glass, and
with a cry, he fell in a heap on to the stones at their feet. Then in the
moonlight, they saw the face of the highwayman peering over the sill.
(OMNES move uneasily.)
They sent for the blacksmith, and with his sledge-hammer he battered

in the strong oak panels, and the first thing that met their eyes was the
body of Jerry Bundler dangling from the top of the four-post bed by his
own handkerchief.
(OMNES sit back, draw their breath, and are generally uneasy. Slight
pause.)
SOMERS. I say, which bedroom was it? (Earnestly).
PENFOLD. That I can't tell you, but the story goes that Jerry still
haunts this house, and my father used to declare positively that the last
time he slept here, the ghost of Jerry Bundler lowered itself from the
top of his four-post bed and tried to strangle him.
BELDON (jumps up, gets behind his chair, twists chair round;
nervously). O, I say, that'll do. I wish you'd thought to ask your father
which bedroom it was.
PENFOLD. What for?
BELDON. Well, I should take jolly good care not to sleep in it, that's
all. (Goes to back.)
(PENFOLD rising, goes to fire, and knocks out his pipe, Leek gets by
arm-chair.)
PENFOLD. There's nothing to fear. I don't believe for a moment that
ghosts could really hurt one. (GEORGE lights candle at table.) In fact,
my father used to say that it was only the unpleasantness of the thing
that upset him, and that, for all practical purposes, Jerry's fingers might
have been made of cotton wool for all the harm they could do.
(GEORGE hands candle, gets to door and holds it open.)
BELDON. That's all very fine, a ghost story is a ghost story, but when
a gentleman tells a tale of a ghost that haunts the house in which one is
going to sleep, I call it most ungentlemanly.
(BELDON places his chair to L. of table R. PENFOLD goes up to C.

LEEK sits in arm chair. BELDON goes to fireplace.)
PENFOLD. Pooh! Nonsense. (At table up C.).
(During his speech George lights one of the candles.)
Ghosts can't hurt you. For my own part, I should rather like to see one.
OMNES. Oh, come now---- etc.
PENFOLD. Well, I'll bid you good-night, gentlemen.
(He goes towards door L. GEORGE opens it for him; he passes out as
they all say.)
OMNES. Good-night.
(HIRST rises, crosses to L. C.)
BELDON (up R., calling after him). And I hope Jerry'll pay you a visit.
MALCOLM (rises, goes to fire). Well, I'm going to have another
whisky if you gentlemen will join me. I think it'll do us all good after
that tale. George, take the orders.
(GEORGE comes down with salver to table R., gathers up glasses.)
SOMERS. Not quite so much hot water in mine.
MALCOLM. I'll have the same again, George.
BELDON. A leetle bit of lemon in mine, George.
LEEK. Whisky and soda for me, please.
HIRST. Whisky!
(GEORGE goes to table R., collects glasses, crosses to door L. speaks.)

GEORGE (to MALCOLM). Shall I light the gas, Mr. Malcolm? (At
door.)
MALCOLM. No, the fire's very comfortable, unless any of you
gentlemen prefer the gas.
OMNES. No, not at all--etc.
MALCOLM. Never mind, George. (This to GEORGE as no one wants
the gas.) The firelight is pleasanter.
(Exit GEORGE for orders L.)
(BELDON gets C.)
MALCOLM (at fire). Does any gentleman know another----?
SOMERS (seated R.). Well, I remember hearing----
BELDON (up C.). Oh, I say--that'll do.
(OMNES laugh.)
LEEK. Yes, I think you all look as if you'd heard enough ghost stories
to do you the rest of your lives. And you're not all as anxious to