Part 22

I was doing a piece of embroidery work as a gift for my aunt and, not wishing her to see it, and being rather pushed for time, after retiring to bed one night I re-lit my candle and sat up to continue my sewing. It was just about midnight and, after stitching away for a few minutes, I heard as I thought, my aunt moving in her room, come out of the door and along the passage. My bed was facing away from the door, but I turned my head and saw the door being pushed open. I then blew out the candle, not wishing her to see what I was doing. I heard her come in and stand behind me, and I said: “What's the matter? Is anything wrong?” On getting no reply, I again lit my candle and found no one in the room and everything silent. I went into my aunt’s room to find her fast asleep in bed.

Not being easily frightened, I started to work again the following night, but exactly the same thing occurred, and when, on the third night, this was again repeated, I made no further attempts at midnight sewing.

We could find no explanation whatever, and as it was during very calm weather, we could not attribute anything to the wind.

The tenants of the lower flats had no such experiences, but I feel sure that there was some strange and uncanny influence that proceeded from those attics and on occasion found their way into our flat. Fortunately we had taken the rooms for only a short time, and were glad to move to a different part of the town. We have never since experienced such a thing.

A HOUSE “TO LET”

WHEN I was a small child, my mother took a house near ———. As she could never sleep in a strange house for some days, she sat up in bed reading a novel. Suddenly she looked up from the book and saw, coming from the direction of the door, a female figure clad in a blue dressing gown, with loosened golden hair about her shoulders. The figure walked to the mantelpiece, took up a comb that was lying there, drew it through her hair, turned from the mantelpiece, walked towards the door and vanished. A few months after this my father died. Now, this house had been taken on a three years’ agreement, and my mother, after her bereavement, wished to leave, but the owner was not inclined to release her. Mother spoke to her about the apparition, and told her she could not stay. After breaking down, the unhappy woman said she knew this did occur at different times in the room mentioned, and she explained that the figure was that of her niece who was murdered by her own sister through jealousy, as she was combing her hair. The spirit had been “read down,” but did not rest. The murderess died in an asylum. My mother was released from her agreement on a promise not to tell a possible tenant.

Since then I have passed the house many times, and at intervals have seen the “To Let” board in the garden.

WORRIED ABOUT THE DEEDS OF THE HOUSE

A FEW years ago my friend had to remove to another town owing to her husband's work.

She was fortunate enough to get a very pretty, compact house just outside, and felt very proud of the fact, as houses just then were very scarce.

This friend, by the way, was very strong minded, and did not know the meaning of nerves.

After she had been in the house a couple of weeks she was sleepless, after having teeth extracted, and hadn't even dozed when she saw what she described as a venerable old gentleman, with long, white beard and bent shoulders, standing close by the side of the bed with a document of some kind in his hand.

She awoke her husband and described what had taken place, but he only laughed and said it was nightmare after too heavy a supper.

So on the second occasion that the same thing happened she refrained from telling him, as she didn't like being ridiculed.

But the strain of doing so must have told on her, as, after the third time she saw the vision, her husband found her in a state of collapse.

He called in the doctor and explained what had caused the trouble. The doctor at once said: “Oh, it was old So-and-so; he died in this room and had been rather worried about the deeds of this house.”

Needless to say, her husband didn't ridicule her any more, but set about looking for another house.

A SINISTER ATMOSPHERE

IT is pleasant to sit round the fire on a winter's evening and tell ghost stories. A sort of thrill goes down one's spine which is not altogether unpleasant.

It is not, however, by any means pleasant to be in a house where one frequently gets such thrills.

Some years ago my mother and sister went to live in a large, old-fashioned farmhouse. All old houses seem to have an atmosphere of their own. Some speak of peace as one enters their doors; others of serenity. Then, again, in other houses one realises an atmosphere of depression. In this old house the atmosphere seemed almost sinister. There were such strange unaccountable noises, tappings, knocking and banging everywhere, that one could not sit in comfort in any of the rooms.

One time, when I went over to help nurse my mother, who was ill, a friend and I who were sitting up at night heard distinct footsteps crossing a large, unoccupied, adjoining bedroom.

The nurse who came later also heard these footsteps repeatedly and, strangely, each morning a framed photograph on the mantelpiece was lying on the floor. We also heard music, which sounded like the faint, sweet music of an old harpsichord.

One of the most frequent noises sounded as though a chair was being dragged along the kitchen floor, and there seemed to pass a dim presence with a breath of cold air across the kitchen.

These strange, unaccountable happenings were so disturbing that my sister became afraid to sleep alone in a room.

My mother and sister have now left the house and neighbourhood, but recently I was interested to hear that the people who now live there hear the same uncanny noises.

I think there must be an explanation of these strange sounds, and no doubt one will yet be found.

WAS IT A MONK?