The Castle-Town Tragedy and Other Tales of Carnacki, the Ghost-finder by Barrows Brandon

Author:Barrows, Brandon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dunhams Manor Press
Published: 2017-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

***

“Surely, you didn’t leave those poor souls to fend for themselves, Carnacki!” Taylor interjected.

Carnacki scowled mightily and growled, “Do you take me for some heartless dastard?” Under his gaze, Taylor withered and seemed to shrink back into his chair.

Carnacki composed himself and asked, “If I may continue?”

***

As I would have said, before long, the Millards’ car was ready to make the trip back into town, Liam and Millard himself within and bundled up tightly against the chill and the weather. I, however, had neither left nor had I planned to.

In fact, by the time the two men left the Green House, I was secreted within room number nine, the door having been sealed from the outside with wax by Liam before his departure. I had outlined a plan to Millard during our brief conference and into it I had drafted Liam’s assistance after he’d agreed to bring me back into town. I didn’t like the idea of letting any more than were necessary in on my scheme, but it couldn’t be helped.

And so I sat, quiet as a mouse, in the darkness of the room and the silence of the nearly-empty house. The afternoon had grown dark with storm but, with the falling of night, the blackness became almost impenetrable. It was hell on the nerves, I’m not afraid to say—all those long hours of sitting in the pitch black with nothing to do but think and stare and stare and think. And all the time, my thoughts growing ever darker to match my surroundings. It was mind-numbing and several times I nearly succumbed to a sort of self-hypnosis, despite the possible danger I faced.

I crouched in that room for hours and, eventually, my patience was rewarded. I couldn’t be sure of the time, but definitely much earlier than on previous nights, I heard that distinctive shuffling sound again and this time far louder and faster—as if whatever caused it was emboldened by the house’s near-vacancy. Gripping my revolver in one hand and my flashlight in the other, I sucked in a deep breath and tensed.

In another moment, there came a very-faint metallic click and that peculiar rasping, grating sound appeared, simultaneously and by sheer good luck, with a flash of lightning that lit up the room for the briefest interval, revealing the entire fireplace swinging out from the wall! The crack of thunder followed immediately and I let out my breath, then gasped sharply as another lightning strike showed, passing through the newly-opened portal, the ghastly-white visage of a white-haired, elderly woman.

My first thought was The ghost of Lady Eileen? But no! It was nothing so fantastic, I knew, and flicked on my flashlight, pointing it directly at the old woman and dazzling her with its sudden, brilliant glare.

“Stay where you are,” I warned but, even blinded, the surprised trespasser knew where her exit was and rushed madly back towards the passageway behind the fireplace. I was entirely prepared for this, however, and leapt up, beating her to the opening by a fraction of a second.

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