Three Ghost Stories | Page 4

all view but a strip of sky; the
perspective one way only a crooked prolongation of this great dungeon; the shorter
perspective in the other direction terminating in a gloomy red light, and the gloomier

entrance to a black tunnel, in whose massive architecture there was a barbarous,
depressing, and forbidding air. So little sunlight ever found its way to this spot, that it had
an earthy, deadly smell; and so much cold wind rushed through it, that it struck chill to
me, as if I had left the natural world.
Before he stirred, I was near enough to him to have touched him. Not even then removing
his eyes from mine, he stepped back one step, and lifted his hand.
This was a lonesome post to occupy (I said), and it had riveted my attention when I
looked down from up yonder. A visitor was a rarity, I should suppose; not an unwelcome
rarity, I hoped? In me, he merely saw a man who had been shut up within narrow limits
all his life, and who, being at last set free, had a newly-awakened interest in these great
works. To such purpose I spoke to him; but I am far from sure of the terms I used; for,
besides that I am not happy in opening any conversation, there was something in the man
that daunted me.
He directed a most curious look towards the red light near the tunnel's mouth, and looked
all about it, as if something were missing from it, and then looked it me.
That light was part of his charge? Was it not?
He answered in a low voice,--"Don't you know it is?"
The monstrous thought came into my mind, as I perused the fixed eyes and the saturnine
face, that this was a spirit, not a man. I have speculated since, whether there may have
been infection in his mind.
In my turn, I stepped back. But in making the action, I detected in his eyes some latent
fear of me. This put the monstrous thought to flight.
"You look at me," I said, forcing a smile, "as if you had a dread of me."
"I was doubtful," he returned, "whether I had seen you before."
"Where?"
He pointed to the red light he had looked at.
"There?" I said.
Intently watchful of me, he replied (but without sound), "Yes."
"My good fellow, what should I do there? However, be that as it may, I never was there,
you may swear."
"I think I may," he rejoined. "Yes; I am sure I may."
His manner cleared, like my own. He replied to my remarks with readiness, and in
well-chosen words. Had he much to do there? Yes; that was to say, he had enough
responsibility to bear; but exactness and watchfulness were what was required of him,
and of actual work-- manual labour--he had next to none. To change that signal, to trim
those lights, and to turn this iron handle now and then, was all he had to do under that
head. Regarding those many long and lonely hours of which I seemed to make so much,
he could only say that the routine of his life had shaped itself into that form, and he had
grown used to it. He had taught himself a language down here,--if only to know it by
sight, and to have formed his own crude ideas of its pronunciation, could be called
learning it. He had also worked at fractions and decimals, and tried a little algebra; but he
was, and had been as a boy, a poor hand at figures. Was it necessary for him when on
duty always to remain in that channel of damp air, and could he never rise into the
sunshine from between those high stone walls? Why, that depended upon times and
circumstances. Under some conditions there would be less upon the Line than under
others, and the same held good as to certain hours of the day and night. In bright weather,

he did choose occasions for getting a little above these lower shadows; but, being at all
times liable to be called by his electric bell, and at such times listening for it with
redoubled anxiety, the relief was less than I would suppose.
He took me into his box, where there was a fire, a desk for an official book in which he
had to make certain entries, a telegraphic instrument with its dial, face, and needles, and
the little bell of which he had spoken. On my trusting that he would excuse the remark
that he had been well educated, and (I hoped I might say without offence) perhaps
educated above that station, he observed that instances of slight incongruity in such wise
would rarely be found wanting