Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-03-16

blessed if he would himself
Deserted, then, and melancholy as my
destination, l made ready for my night
out-way out from every human thing.
The luggage put up consisted of n bottle
OF alcohol and some salt with which to
exercise evil spirits; planchette, with
from spirit land; something to eat: a thick
rug, a camp stool. a revolver and a candle
and dark lantern. 1 could get neither
candle nor lantern large enough to con-
vince me that it would not burn out and
leave me in the dark, so fortified myself
with both Yes. and / took some gum
along. cigar was my idea of real COM
tort under trying circumstances, such as I
was about to face, but 1 have been told
that Madam Blavatsky smoked for occult
purposes-that there is an esoteric some
tning or another about tobacco smoke, the
vibrations of which have certain effects
upon spirits; SO, not wanting by chance
IN any way to interrupt the hilarity of the
occasion at hand, 1 turned for comfort
a ~ toDacco smoke to gum, which, so far
as l know, is not related to any esoteric
doctrine
Strange Beginning.
After bidding everybody touching fare
well. and eliciting the assurance that If T
did not return in time for breakfast some
nody was to go to the Police Court ard get
out a writ of habeas corpus to exonerate
me from the charge of HOUSEKEEPING I
was actually under way.
me night was worse than dark-it was
misty moonlight, the most beautiful
weather in the world for the compilations
OF ghosts. Familiar objects took on gigan-
TIC, monstrous forms. and when l turned
my Feet into the path leading to the door
OF the haunted house, the one more ghost
inside grew less remarkable among the
spectral world, the earth had seemed to
grow.
Inc doorway was dark, and a tangle of
dark green stuff grew about it. NV KEY
sounded ominous in the outer door, the
LOCK OF which, for provoking while was
obstinate: Inside the vestbule, as l was
looking fer the latch, there set up on the
street directly in front a noise that flash
ed III my brain the image of a wild man
covered with hair, trying to put the dis
cord OF his being into Song The noise, as
such, is simply indescribable. In front of a
haunted house it seemed to have burst
straight from the groaning bowels of the
place where Ingersoll says there isn't any.
l have before experienced the terrors of
persons who think they can sing but never
IN my life have l known any one so hor-
ribly mistaken in his voice as this creature
Drew Near Without Coming.
Finally l had opened the door and closed
it behind my back
I was alone in haunted house.
My first sense was of blackness-black-
ness that had a body that was sentient
that spoke, saw, touched me, demanding
that l yield to it or die. For a moment
was ready to do both. If my capacity for
being scared was all there is to me- I'd be
dead now. But. quite happily for nights
in haunted houses and what else requiring
courage, myself that quails at the sight of
a mouse and turns giddy in the dark. is
not my only self; there are others-pre-
emlnently one that guys my terror, so
that, take ME altogether. l am quite a
pleasant party, which, on the whole gets
variety of sensation out of life and keeps
up the average common sense.
Clearly, the first thirg to be done was to
light up and go through the house. My
one great dread was tramps. l needed to
be sure on this point before l could give
any thought to ghosts.
l had raised the slide of my lantern
when, Simultaneous with the scratch of
my match 1 received an impression which
in any other but a haunted house would
have raised no question to my mind of the
certainty of some one coming down the
Stairs-not the first, but the second flight
above me. hastily lighted my lantern.
and with the fierce glance of its cyclopic
eye turned upon the stairs, 1 squeezed up
close to the front door, my hand on the
knob, waiting. The footsteps-to drop into
geometrical terms-seemed to be the asym-
tote of an approach-that is, they con-
stsntly drew near without coming. l can't
say that 1 was frightened. Fright is a
definite something starting from a given
point in a given direction, whereas my
sensations l could refer to nothing so
much as the boundless blackress that
though it was now lighted by my lantern
and had somehow got feet, still overcame
me with the pressure of its silent, notion
less body. If the nervous man had been
with me at this juncture l would have
quietly fallen upon his neck, and We would
both have been found dead the next morn
ing.
The Rappings.
The white frame of the doorway leading
into the adjoining room became defined as
my eyes grew accustomed to the dark. and
within the room there was a mere sugges-
ton of shadow shaped by what presuma-
bly, was the outer gray light entering
through window. Into this room at
length l moved, the wonderful eye of my
lantern giving me to feel as if 1 were
some greater incarnation of myself, in
which my sixth Sc Use possessed physical
organ to serve me in this gross impenetra-
bic world that sought to overcome at every
point. A chandelier in the middle of the
room, hung with brittle, yellow stuff that
had been Christmas green's, set my memory
vibrating with the mournful measure that
begins, THE garlands dead, the guests
have fled" I was advancing to the room
further back, when suddenly there came a
gently rapping," right upstairs over my
head. Tapping is hardly the word to ex-
press the sound, which I have been able
to reproduce by winding my knuckles in a
thick cloth and knocking on wood. l don't
mind telling that as the blackness began
to articulate I precipitately retired to the
hall near the frcnt door again. The raps
were at first precise in their movement
lone, two; one. two, three, four; one, two"
something like that. After a time they
were expressive of Impotence, or impor-
tuning. l do not know how long 1 listened
spell-bound, as a bird gaZes into the eyes
of a snake. The changing of a patrol
wagon passing along the street brought me
to consciousness of the outer world and it's
stupid considerations of time and that
sort of thing. Not many minutes after the
brazen bawling of the church bell began to
tell me the hour. 1t was twelve. 1 had
been away from home two hours and was
still hating at the task had set myself.
Dread of the Living.
Disguised with my half-hearted under
taking thus far, resolutely set out again
to make tour of the house. I had on over
shoes, and no sound of mine interrupted
the intermittent knocking that kept up
overhead.
The winding ways of the hall seemed
built for ghosts to hold high carnival with
in. Narrowing toward the rear, door
opened one side, leading by narrow stairs
that stretched beyond the reach of my
lanterns eye into the basement below. 1
started down, but quaking nature called a
halt. 1 got up again. think 1 stepped
over six steps with one stride. On into the