Speaker 1: Brought to you by the all new twenty fourteen Toyota Corolla.
Speaker 2: Welcome to Stuff you Should Know from HowStuffWorks dot com.
Speaker 3: Hey, and welcome to the podcast. I'm Josh Clark. There's
Speaker 3: Charles w Chuck Bryan. It's very spooky, It's Halloween, it's.
Speaker 1: This is the holiday episode, Christmas Holiday episode or my
Speaker 1: favorite two of the year.
Speaker 3: Yes, oh yeah, it's a tradition. Now I love tradition. Yeah, custom, Yeah.
Speaker 1: You want to explain what we do each Halloween in
Speaker 1: case people aren't in the know.
Speaker 3: We like to read a scary story for Halloween. The
Speaker 3: first few years we read public domain scary stories HP Lovecraft,
Speaker 3: Edgrell and Poe.
Speaker 1: Yeah so Chuck.
Speaker 3: If you remember last year we held a horror fiction contest.
Speaker 3: Yeah yeah, and we came up with the winner. There
Speaker 3: was a sweet sixteen you can actually go read them
Speaker 3: on stuff youshould Know dot com. All sixteen of them
Speaker 3: are awesome. And then we had like a leg wrestling
Speaker 3: competition and the guy who came out on top was
Speaker 3: Brett s Arnold with his really awesome story signed forever
Speaker 3: and Ever.
Speaker 1: Yeah, thank you, strong Leg. Josh.
Speaker 3: I didn't like wrestle I just watched Oh that was
Speaker 3: me and Tracy. Yeah you don't remember. This is awkward,
Speaker 3: it's crazy, like Tracy was really fast. Yeah, and she
Speaker 3: was strangely agitated too, like she really had something against you. Anyway,
Speaker 3: Brette s Arnold one signed Forever and Ever. If you
Speaker 3: haven't heard that, go back and listen to. It's very creepy.
Speaker 3: Jerry did some excellent sound design. And then but this
Speaker 3: year we are not holding another contest that way.
Speaker 1: No, No, even though it was great, that was a
Speaker 1: lot of reading.
Speaker 3: That's right. And then this year we're back at it
Speaker 3: reading a very scary short story from the early twentieth
Speaker 3: century written by a writer named Algernon Blackwood who was fantastic.
Speaker 1: Yeah. You get a name like Algernon Blackwood and you
Speaker 1: were born to write short story horror.
Speaker 3: Exactly, or you're gonna found some like a church of
Speaker 3: Satan or something like that.
Speaker 1: Yeah, he probably tried both. He's a good writer, yeah.
Speaker 3: More positive than you'd think.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and this is a good one. Just to set
Speaker 1: it up, it's about a haunted house and a couple
Speaker 1: of people venturing through this haunted house. Yeah, and it's
Speaker 1: creepy as age.
Speaker 3: It is so we're gonna get to it. Jerry's gonna
Speaker 3: lay down the sound design and we're going to scare
Speaker 3: the socks off of you. Happy Halloween to you guys.
Speaker 1: Turn the lights down, and here we go with the
Speaker 1: Empty House by Algernon Blackwood.
Speaker 3: Certain houses, like certain persons, manage somehow to proclaim at
Speaker 3: once their character for evil. In the case of the latter,
Speaker 3: no particular feature need betray them. They may boast an
Speaker 3: open countenance and an ingenuous smile, and yet a little
Speaker 3: of their company leaves the unalterable conviction that there is
Speaker 3: something radically amiss with their being, that they are evil
Speaker 3: Willie Nil. They seem to communicate an atmosphere of secret
Speaker 3: and wicked thoughts, which makes those in their immediate neighborhood
Speaker 3: shrink from them, as from a thing diseased. And perhaps
Speaker 3: with houses, the same principle as operative. And it is
Speaker 3: the aroma of evil deeds committed under a particular roof,
Speaker 3: long after the evil doers have passed away, that makes
Speaker 3: the goose flesh come and the hair rise. Something of
Speaker 3: the original passion of the evil doer, and of the
Speaker 3: horror felt by his victim enters the heart of the
Speaker 3: innocent watcher, and he becomes suddenly conscious of tingling nerves,
Speaker 3: creeping skin, and a chilling of the blood. He is
Speaker 3: terror stricken without apparent cause.
Speaker 1: There was manifestly nothing in the external appearance of this
Speaker 1: particular house to bear out the tales of the horror
Speaker 1: that was said to reign within. It was neither lonely
Speaker 1: nor enkempt. It stood crowded into a corner of the
Speaker 1: square and looked exactly like the houses on either side
Speaker 1: of it. The same number of windows as its neighbors,
Speaker 1: the same balcony overlooking the gardens, the same white steps
Speaker 1: leading up to the heavy black front door, and in
Speaker 1: the rear there was the same narrow strip of green
Speaker 1: with neat box borders running up to the wall that
Speaker 1: divided it from the backs of the adjoining houses. Apparently too,
Speaker 1: the number of the chimney pots on the roof was
Speaker 1: the same, the breadth and angle of the eaves, and
Speaker 1: even the height of the dirty area railings. And yet
Speaker 1: this house in the square that seemed precisely similar to
Speaker 1: its fifty ugly neighbors, was a matter of fact, entirely different,
Speaker 1: horribly different. Wherein lay this marked invisible difference is impossible
Speaker 1: to say. It cannot be ascribed wholly to the imagination,
Speaker 1: because persons who had spent some time in the house,
Speaker 1: knowing nothing of the facts, had declared positively that certain
Speaker 1: rooms were so disagreeable they would rather die than enter
Speaker 1: them again, and that the atmosphere of the whole house
Speaker 1: produced in them symptoms of a genuine terror. While the
Speaker 1: series of innocent tenants who had tried to live in
Speaker 1: it had been forced to DeCamp at the shortest possible notice,
Speaker 1: was indeed little less than a scandal of the town.
Speaker 3: When Shorthouse arrived to pay a week end visit to
Speaker 3: his aunt Julia and her house on the seafront at
Speaker 3: the other end of the town, he found her charged
Speaker 3: to the brim with mystery and excitement. He had only
Speaker 3: received her telegram that morning, and he had come anticipating boredom.
Speaker 3: But the moment he touched her hand and kissed her
Speaker 3: apple skin wrinkled cheek, he caught the first wave of
Speaker 3: her electrical condition. The impression deepened when he learned that
Speaker 3: there were to be no other visitors, and that he
Speaker 3: had been telegraphed for with a very special object. Something
Speaker 3: was in the wind, and the something would doubtless bear fruit.
Speaker 3: For this elderly spinster, Aunt with a mania for psychical research,
Speaker 3: had brains as well as willpower, and by hook er
Speaker 3: by crook she usually managed to accomplish her ends. The
Speaker 3: revelation was made soon after tea, when she sidled close
Speaker 3: up to him as they paced slowly along the sea
Speaker 3: front in the dusk. I've got the keys, she announced,
Speaker 3: in a delighted yet half awesome voice, got them till Monday.
Speaker 1: The keys of the bathing machine, or.
Speaker 3: He asked, innocently, looking from the sea to the town.
Speaker 3: Nothing brought her so quickly to the point as feigning
Speaker 3: stupidity Neither. She whispered, I've got the keys of the
Speaker 3: haunted house in the square, and I'm going there to night.
Speaker 3: Shorthouse was conscious of the slightest possible tremor down his back.
Speaker 3: He dropped his teasing tone. Something in her voice and
Speaker 3: manner thrilled him. She was in earnest.
Speaker 1: But you can't go alone.
Speaker 3: He began, That's why I wired for you, she said,
Speaker 3: with decision.
Speaker 1: He turned to look at her. The ugly line enigmatical
Speaker 1: face was alive with excitement. There was the glow of
Speaker 1: genuine enthusiasm round it like a halo. The eye shone.
Speaker 1: He caught another wave of her excitement, and a second trimmer,
Speaker 1: more marked than the first, accompanied it. Thanks Aunt, Julia,
Speaker 1: he said politely.
Speaker 3: Thanks awfully, I should not dare to go quite alone.
Speaker 1: She went on, raising her voice.
Speaker 3: But with you, I should enjoy it immensely. You're afraid
Speaker 3: of nothing, I know.
Speaker 1: Thanks so much, he said again. Here is anything likely
Speaker 1: to happen.
Speaker 3: A great deal has happened, she whispered, though it's been
Speaker 3: most cleverly hushed up. Three tenants have come and gone
Speaker 3: in the last few months, and the house is said
Speaker 3: to be empty for good now.
Speaker 1: In spite of himself, Shorthouse became interested. His aunt was
Speaker 1: so very much in earnest.
Speaker 3: The house is very old, indeed, she went on. And
Speaker 3: the story, an unpleasant one, dates a long way back.
Speaker 3: It has to do with a murder committed by a
Speaker 3: jealous stableman who had some affair with the servant in
Speaker 3: the house. One night, he managed to secrete himself in
Speaker 3: the cellar, and when everyone was asleep, he crept upstairs
Speaker 3: to the servants quarters, chased the girl down to the
Speaker 3: next landing, and before anyone could come to the rescue.
Speaker 3: Threw her bodily over the banisters into.
Speaker 1: The hall below, and the stableman was.
Speaker 3: Caught, I believe, and hanged for murder. But it all
Speaker 3: happened this century ago, and I've not been able to
Speaker 3: get more details of this story. Shorthouse now felt his
Speaker 3: interest thoroughly aroused, but though he was not particularly nervous
Speaker 3: for himself, he hesitated a little on his aunt's account.
Speaker 3: On one condition, he said, at length, nothing will prevent
Speaker 3: my going. She said firmly, But I may as well
Speaker 3: hear your condition.
Speaker 1: That you guarantee your power of self control if anything
Speaker 1: really horrible happens. I mean that you are sure you
Speaker 1: won't get too.
Speaker 3: Frightened, Jim, she said scornfully. I'm not young, I know,
Speaker 3: nor are my nerves. But with you I should be
Speaker 3: afraid of nothing in the world. This, of course settled it.
Speaker 3: For Shorthouse had no pretensions to being other than a
Speaker 3: very ordinary young man, and an appeal to his vanity
Speaker 3: was irresistible. He agreed to go instinctively. By a sort
Speaker 3: of subconscious preparation. He kept himself and his forces well
Speaker 3: in hand the whole evening, compelling an accumulative reserve of
Speaker 3: control by that nameless inward process of gradually putting all
Speaker 3: the emotions away and turning the key upon them, a
Speaker 3: process difficult to describe, but wonderfully effective, as all men
Speaker 3: who have lived through severe trials of the inner man
Speaker 3: well understand. Later it stood him in good stead. But
Speaker 3: it was not until half past ten, when they stood
Speaker 3: in the hall well, in the glare of friendly lamps,
Speaker 3: and still surrounded by comforting human influences, that he had
Speaker 3: to make the first call upon this store of collected strength.
Speaker 3: For once the door was closed and he saw the deserted,
Speaker 3: silent streets stretching away white in the moonlight before them,
Speaker 3: it came to him clearly that the real test that
Speaker 3: night would be in dealing with two fears instead of one.
Speaker 3: He would have to carry his aunt's fear as well
Speaker 3: as his own, And as he glanced down at her
Speaker 3: sphinklike countenance and realized that it might assume no pleasant
Speaker 3: aspect in a rush of real terror, he felt satisfied
Speaker 3: with only one thing in the whole adventure, that he
Speaker 3: had confidence in his own will and power to stand
Speaker 3: against any shock that might be.
Speaker 1: Okay. Little recap here got a dude and his aunt
Speaker 1: checking out this haunted house that she has the keys to. Yep,
Speaker 1: apparently a guy killed a lady.
Speaker 3: There years before, a century ago.
Speaker 1: And it sounds like this Shorthouse guy is handsome and brave. Yes,
Speaker 1: and I'm the aunt, you're the aunt. Okay, all right,
Speaker 1: here we go. Slowly they walked through the empty streets
Speaker 1: of the town. A bright autumn moon silvered the roofs,
Speaker 1: casting deep shadows. There was no breath of wind, and
Speaker 1: the trees in the formal gardens by the seafront watched
Speaker 1: them silently as they passed along. To his aunt's occasional remarks,
Speaker 1: Shorthouse made no reply, realizing that she was simply surrounding
Speaker 1: herself with the mental buffers, saying ordinary things to prevent
Speaker 1: herself thinking of extraordinary things. Few windows showed lights, and
Speaker 1: from scarcely a single chimney came smoke or sparks. Shorthouse
Speaker 1: had already begun to notice everything, even the smallest details. Presently,
Speaker 1: they stopped at the street corner and looked up at
Speaker 1: the name on the side of the house full in
Speaker 1: the moonlight, and with one accord, but without remark, turned
Speaker 1: into the square, and crossed over to the side of
Speaker 1: it that lay in the shadow.
Speaker 3: The number of the house is thirteen.
Speaker 1: Whispered a voice at aside, and neither of them made
Speaker 1: the obvious reference, but passed across the broad sheet of
Speaker 1: moonlight and began to march up the pavement in silence.
Speaker 1: It was about halfway up the square that Shorthouse felt
Speaker 1: an arm slipped quietly but significantly into his own, and
Speaker 1: knew then that their adventure had begun in earnest, and
Speaker 1: that his companion was already yielding imperceptibly to the influences
Speaker 1: against them. She needed support. And a few people are
Speaker 1: picturing Josh and I arm in arm, and Josh wearing
Speaker 1: a dress. Then you're right on the money.
Speaker 3: Like a gray wig with a bun.
Speaker 1: Yeah, this is Anthony Perkins and mom. A few minutes
Speaker 1: later they stopped before a tall, narrow house that rose
Speaker 1: before them into the night, ugly in shape and painted
Speaker 1: a dingy white. Shutterless windows without blinds stared down upon them,
Speaker 1: shining here and there in the moonlight. There were weather
Speaker 1: streaks in the wall and cracks in the paint, and
Speaker 1: the balcony bulged out from the first floor. A little unnaturally.
Speaker 1: But beyond this generally forlorn appearance of an unoccupied house,
Speaker 1: there was nothing at first sight to single out this
Speaker 1: particular mansion, for the evil character had most certainly acquired.
Speaker 1: Taking a look over their shoulders to make sure they
Speaker 1: had not been followed, they went boldly up the steps
Speaker 1: and stood against the huge black door that fronted them forbiddingly.
Speaker 1: But the first wave of nervous snows now upon them,
Speaker 1: and Shorthouse fumbled a long time with the key before
Speaker 1: he could fit it into the lock at all. For
Speaker 1: a moment, if truth were told, they both hoped it
Speaker 1: would not open, for they were a prey to various
Speaker 1: unpleasant emotions. As they stood there on the threshold of
Speaker 1: their ghostly adventure, Shorthouse, shuffling with the key and hampered
Speaker 1: by the steady weight on his arm, certainly felt the
Speaker 1: solemnity of the moment. It was as if the whole world,
Speaker 1: for all experience, seemed at that instant, concentrated in his
Speaker 1: own consciousness, were listening to the grating noise of that key.
Speaker 1: A stray puff of wind wandering down the empty street
Speaker 1: woke a momentary rustling in the trees behind them, but otherwise,
Speaker 1: this rattling of the key was the only sound audible,
Speaker 1: And at last it turned in the lock, and the
Speaker 1: heavy door swung open and revealed a yawning gulf of
Speaker 1: darkness beyond.
Speaker 3: With a last glance at the moonlit square, they passed
Speaker 3: quickly in, and the door slam behind them with a
Speaker 3: roar that echoed prodigiously through empty halls and passages. But
Speaker 3: instantly with the echoes, another sound made itself heard, and
Speaker 3: Aunt Julia leaned suddenly, so heavily upon him that he
Speaker 3: had to take a step backwards to save himself from falling.
Speaker 3: A man had coughed close beside them, so close that
Speaker 3: it seemed they must have been actually by his side
Speaker 3: in the darkness. With the possibility of practical jokes in
Speaker 3: his mind, Shorthouse at once swung his heavy stick in
Speaker 3: the direction of the sound, but it meant nothing more
Speaker 3: than solid air. He heard his aunt give a little
Speaker 3: gas beside him. There's someone here, she whispered. I heard
Speaker 3: him be quiet, he said sternly.
Speaker 1: It was nothing but the noise of the front door.
Speaker 3: Oh get a light quick, she added, as her nephew,
Speaker 3: fumbling with a box of matches, opened it. Upside down
Speaker 3: and let them fall with a rattle, on to the
Speaker 3: stone floor. The sound, however, was not repeated, and there
Speaker 3: was no evidence of retreating footsteps. In another minute they
Speaker 3: had a candle burning, using an empty end of a
Speaker 3: cigar case as a holder, And when the first flare
Speaker 3: had died down, he held the impromptu lamp aloft and
Speaker 3: surveyed the scene. And it was dreary enough in all conscience,
Speaker 3: For there is nothing more desolate in all the abodes
Speaker 3: of men than an unfurnished house, dimly lit, silent and forsaken,
Speaker 3: and yet tenanted by rumor with the memories of evil
Speaker 3: and violent histories. They were standing in a wide hallway.
Speaker 3: On their left was the open door of a spacious
Speaker 3: dining room, and in front of the hall ran ever
Speaker 3: narrowing into a long, dark passage that led apparently to
Speaker 3: the top of the kitchen stairs. The broad, uncarpeted staircase
Speaker 3: rose in a suite before them, everywhere draped in shadows,
Speaker 3: except for a single spot about half way up, where
Speaker 3: the moonlight came in through the window and fell in
Speaker 3: a bright patch on the boards. This shaft of light
Speaker 3: shed a faint radiance above and below it, lending to
Speaker 3: the objects within its reach, a misty outline that was
Speaker 3: infinitely more suggestive and ghostly than complete darkness. Filtered moonlight
Speaker 3: always seems to paint faces on the surrounding gloom, and
Speaker 3: his short house peered up into the well of darkness
Speaker 3: and thought of the countless empty rooms and passages in
Speaker 3: the upper part of the house. He caught himself longing
Speaker 3: again for the safety of the moonlit square or the cozy,
Speaker 3: bright drawing room they had left an hour before. Then,
Speaker 3: realizing that these thoughts were dangerous, he thrust them away
Speaker 3: again and summoned all his energy for concentration on the
Speaker 3: present aunt Julia.
Speaker 1: He said aloud severely, we must now go through the
Speaker 1: house from top to bottom to make a thorough search.
Speaker 1: The echoes of his voice died away slowly all over
Speaker 1: the building, and in the intense silence that followed, he
Speaker 1: turned to look at her in the candlelight. He saw
Speaker 1: that her face was already ghastly pale. But she dropped
Speaker 1: his arm for a moment and said, in a whisper,
Speaker 1: stepping close in front of him.
Speaker 3: I agree. We must be sure there's no one hiding.
Speaker 3: That's the first thing.
Speaker 1: She spoke with evident effort, and he looked at her
Speaker 1: with admiration. You feel quite sure of yourself. It's not
Speaker 1: too late, I think so, she whispered, her eyes shifting
Speaker 1: nervously towards shadows behind.
Speaker 3: Quite sure. Only one thing, What's that? You must never
Speaker 3: leave me alone for an instant.
Speaker 1: As long as you understand that any sound or appearance
Speaker 1: that must be investigated at once, for to hesitate means
Speaker 1: to admit fear. That is fatal. Agreed, she said, a
Speaker 1: little shakily. After a moment's hesitation, I'll try arm in
Speaker 1: arm shorthouse, holding the dripping candle and the stick, while
Speaker 1: his aunt carried the cloak over her shoulders. Figures of
Speaker 1: utter comedy to all but themselves. They began a systematic search, stealthily,
Speaker 1: walking on tiptoe and shading the candle lest it should
Speaker 1: betray their presence. Through the shutterless windows. They went first
Speaker 1: into the big dining room. There was not a stick
Speaker 1: of furniture to be seen. Bare walls, ugly mantlepieces, and
Speaker 1: empty grates stared at them. Everything they felt resented their intrusion,
Speaker 1: watching them as it were, with veiled eyes. Whispers followed
Speaker 1: them shadows flitted noiselessly to the right and left. Something
Speaker 1: seemed ever at their back, watching, waiting an opportunity to
Speaker 1: do them injury. There was the inevitable sense that operations
Speaker 1: which went on when the room was empty had been
Speaker 1: temporarily suspended till they were well out of way again.
Speaker 1: The whole dark interior of the old building seemed to
Speaker 1: become a malignant presence that rose up, warning them to
Speaker 1: desist and mind their own business. Every moment the strains
Speaker 1: on the nerves increased.
Speaker 3: So you hear, what's going on now? I mean, like,
Speaker 3: they're in this house, yeah, empty, it's dark, and yet
Speaker 3: they both have this impression that they are not alone,
Speaker 3: that this house is watching them and resents their intrusion.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and the ant is clearly a burden.
Speaker 3: Yeah, but she's like, you know, really trying to hang
Speaker 3: in there.
Speaker 1: Let's give her credit.
Speaker 3: Out of the gloomy dining room, they passed through large
Speaker 3: folding doors into a sort of library or smoking room,
Speaker 3: wrapped equally in silence, darkness, and dust, And from this
Speaker 3: they regained the hall near the top of the back stairs.
Speaker 3: Here a pitch black tunnel opened before them into the
Speaker 3: lower regions and it must be confessed. They hesitated, but
Speaker 3: only for a minute. With the worst of the night
Speaker 3: still to come, it was essential to turn from nothing.
Speaker 3: Aunt Julius stumbled at the top of the dark descent,
Speaker 3: ill lit by the flickering candle, and even Shorthouse felt
Speaker 3: at least half the decision. Go out of his legs.
Speaker 3: Come on, he said, peremptorily, and his voice ran on
Speaker 3: and lost itself in the dark empty spaces below. I'm coming,
Speaker 3: she faltered, catching his arm with unnecessary violence. They went
Speaker 3: a little unsteadily down the stone steps, a cold, damp
Speaker 3: air meeting them in the face, close and malodorous. The
Speaker 3: kitchen into which the stairs led along a narrow passage,
Speaker 3: was large, with the lofty ceiling. Several doors opened out
Speaker 3: of it, some into cupboards with empty jars still standing
Speaker 3: on the shelves, and others into horrible, little, ghostly back offices,
Speaker 3: each colder and less inviting than the last. Black beetles
Speaker 3: scurried over the floor, and once, when they knocked against
Speaker 3: the deal table standing in the corner, something about the
Speaker 3: size of a cat jumped down with a rush and fled,
Speaker 3: scampering across the stone floor into the darkness everywhere. There
Speaker 3: was a sense of recent occupation, an impression of sadness
Speaker 3: and glued. Leaving the main kitchen, they went toward the scullery.
Speaker 3: The door was standing ajar, and as they pushed it
Speaker 3: open to its full extent, Aunt Juliet uttered a piercing scream,
Speaker 3: which she instantly tried to stifle by placing her hand
Speaker 3: over her mouth. For a second. Shorthouse stood stock still,
Speaker 3: catching his breath. He felt as if his spine had
Speaker 3: suddenly become hollow, and someone had filled it with particles
Speaker 3: of ice. Facing them directly in their way, between the
Speaker 3: doorposts stood the figure of a woman. She had disheveled
Speaker 3: hair and wildly staring eyes, and her face was terrified
Speaker 3: and white as death. She stood there motionless for the
Speaker 3: space of a single second. Then the candle flickered and
Speaker 3: she was gone, gone utterly, and the door framed nothing
Speaker 3: but empty darkness.
Speaker 1: Only the beastly jumping candlelight.
Speaker 3: He said quickly, in a voice that sounded like someone else's.
Speaker 3: It was only half under control.
Speaker 1: Come on, Aunt, there's nothing there. He dragged her forward,
Speaker 1: with a clattering of feet and a great appearance of boldness.
Speaker 1: They went on but over his body the skin mood
Speaker 1: as if crawling ants covered it, and he knew by
Speaker 1: the weight on his arm that he was supplying the
Speaker 1: force of locomotion. For two, the scullery was cold, bare
Speaker 1: and empty, more like a large prison cell than anything else.
Speaker 1: They went round it, tried the door into the yard
Speaker 1: and the windows, but found them all fastened securely. His
Speaker 1: aunt moved beside him like a person in a dream.
Speaker 1: Her eyes were tightly shut, and she seemed merely to
Speaker 1: follow the pressure of his arm. Her courage filled him
Speaker 1: with amazement. At the same time, she noticed that a
Speaker 1: certain odd change had come over her face, a change
Speaker 1: which somehow evaded his powers of analysis. There's nothing here, Auntie,
Speaker 1: he replied aloud. Quickly, Let's go upstairs and see the
Speaker 1: rest of the house. Then we'll choose a room to
Speaker 1: wait up in. She followed him obediently, keeping close to
Speaker 1: his side, and they locked the kitchen door behind them.
Speaker 1: It was a relief to get up again, and the
Speaker 1: hall there was more light than before, for the moon
Speaker 1: had traveled a little further down the stairs. Cautiously, they
Speaker 1: began to go up into the dark vault of the
Speaker 1: upper house. The boards creaking under their weight. On the
Speaker 1: first floor, they found the large double drawing rooms, a
Speaker 1: search of which revealed nothing. Here also was no sign
Speaker 1: of furniture or recent occupancy, nothing but dust and neglect
Speaker 1: and shadows. They opened the big folding doors between front
Speaker 1: and back drawing rooms, and then came out again to
Speaker 1: the landing and went upstairs. They had not gone up
Speaker 1: more than a dozen steps when they both simultaneously stopped
Speaker 1: to listen, looking into each other's eyes with a new apprehension.
Speaker 1: Across the flickering candleplane from the room they had left
Speaker 1: hardly ten seconds before, came the sound of doors quietly closing.
Speaker 1: It was beyond all question. They heard the booming noise
Speaker 1: that accompanies the shutting of heavy doors, followed by the
Speaker 1: sharp catching of the latch. We must go back and see,
Speaker 1: said Shorthouse briefly, in a low tone, and turning to
Speaker 1: go downstairs again. Somehow she managed to drag after him,
Speaker 1: her feet catching in her dress, her face livid.
Speaker 3: When they entered the front drawing room, it was plain
Speaker 3: that the folding doors had been closed half a minute before.
Speaker 3: Without hesitation, short House opened them. He almost expected to
Speaker 3: see someone facing him in the back room, but only
Speaker 3: darkness and cold air met him. They went through both rooms,
Speaker 3: finding nothing unusual. They tried in every way to make
Speaker 3: the doors close of themselves, but there was not wind
Speaker 3: enough even to set the candle flame flickering. The doors
Speaker 3: would not move without strong pressure. All was silent as
Speaker 3: the grave. Undeniably, the rooms were utterly empty, and the
Speaker 3: house utterly still its beginning, whispered a voice at his elbow,
Speaker 3: which he hardly recognized as his aunts. He nodded acquiescence,
Speaker 3: taking out his watch to note the time. It was
Speaker 3: fifteen minutes before midnight. He made the entry of exactly
Speaker 3: what had occurred in his note book, setting the candle
Speaker 3: in its case upon the floor. In order to do so,
Speaker 3: it took a moment or two to balance it safely
Speaker 3: against the wall. Aunt Julia always declared that at this
Speaker 3: moment she was not actually watching him, but had turned
Speaker 3: her head toward the inner room, where she fancied she
Speaker 3: had heard something moving. But at any rate, both positively
Speaker 3: agreed that there came a sound of rushing feet, heavy
Speaker 3: and very swift, and the next instant the candle was out.
Speaker 3: But to Shorthouse himself had come more than this and
Speaker 3: he had always thanked his fortunate stars that it came
Speaker 3: to him alone, and not to his aunt too. For
Speaker 3: as he rose from the stooping position of balancing the candle,
Speaker 3: and before it was actually extinguished, a face thrust itself forward,
Speaker 3: so close to his own that he could almost have
Speaker 3: touched it with his lips. It was a face working
Speaker 3: with passion, a man's face, dark with thick features and angry,
Speaker 3: savage eyes. It belonged to a common man, and it
Speaker 3: was evil in its ordinary normal expression, no doubt. But
Speaker 3: as he saw it alive with intense, aggressive emotion, it
Speaker 3: was malignant in a terrible human countenance. There was no
Speaker 3: movement of the air, nothing but the sound of rushing
Speaker 3: feet stocking their muffled feet, the apparition of the face,
Speaker 3: and the almost simultaneous extinguishing of the candle.
Speaker 1: All right, so the s is hitting the fan. The
Speaker 1: poopoo was hitting the fan at this point.
Speaker 3: Yeah, he could have kissed this ghost.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and they've seen what possibly as a stable man,
Speaker 1: an angry man, and maybe even the woman he murdered.
Speaker 1: And there's cats. It's always scary.
Speaker 3: You hope it's a cat. It was something the size
Speaker 3: of a cat.
Speaker 1: Yet they're still in here. Here we go. In spite
Speaker 1: of himself, Shorthouse uttered a little cry, nearly losing his balance,
Speaker 1: as his aunt clung to him with her whole weight.
Speaker 1: In one moment of real, uncontrollable terror. She made no sound,
Speaker 1: but simply seized him bodily. Fortunately, however, she had seen nothing,
Speaker 1: but had only heard the rushing feet for her control
Speaker 1: returned almost at once, and he was able to disentangle
Speaker 1: himself and strike a match. The shadows ran away on
Speaker 1: all sides before the glare, and his aunt stooped down
Speaker 1: and groped for the cigar case with a precious candle.
Speaker 1: Then they discovered that the candle had not been blown
Speaker 1: out at all. It had been crushed out. The wick
Speaker 1: was pressed down into the wax, which was flattened, as
Speaker 1: if by some smooth, heavy instrument. How his companion so
Speaker 1: quickly overcame her terror, Shorthouse never properly understood, but his
Speaker 1: admiration for her self control increased tenfold, and at that
Speaker 1: same time served to feed his own dying flame, for
Speaker 1: which he was undeniably grateful. Equally inexplicable to him was
Speaker 1: the evidence of physical force they had just witnessed. He
Speaker 1: at once suppressed the memories of stories he had heard
Speaker 1: of physical mediums in their dangerous phenomena. For if these
Speaker 1: were true, and either his aunt or himself was unwittingly
Speaker 1: a physical medium, it meant that they were simply aiding
Speaker 1: to focus the forces of a haunted house already charged
Speaker 1: to the brim. It was like walking with unprotected lamps
Speaker 1: among uncovered stores of gunpowder. So, with his little reflection
Speaker 1: as possible, he simply ReLit the candle and went up
Speaker 1: to the next floor. The arm in his trembled, it
Speaker 1: is true, and his own tread was often uncertain. But
Speaker 1: they went on with thoroughness, and after a search revealing nothing,
Speaker 1: they climbed the last flight of stairs to the top floor.
Speaker 1: Of all. Here they found a perfect nest of small
Speaker 1: servants rooms with broken pieces of furniture, dirty cane bottom chairs,
Speaker 1: chest of drawers, cracked mirrors, and decrepit bedsteads. The room
Speaker 1: had low sloping ceilings already hung here and there with cobwebs,
Speaker 1: small windows, and badly plastered walls. A depressing and dismal
Speaker 1: region which they were glad to leave behind. Man, are
Speaker 1: they gonna make it out?
Speaker 3: I don't know, Chuck, all right, let's find out. It
Speaker 3: was on the stroke of midnight when they entered a
Speaker 3: small room on the third floor, close to the top
Speaker 3: of the stairs, and arranged to make themselves comfortable for
Speaker 3: the remainder of their adventures. It was absolutely bare, and
Speaker 3: was said to be the room then used as a
Speaker 3: clothes closet into which the infuriated groom had chased his
Speaker 3: victim and finally caught her outside Across the narrow landing
Speaker 3: began the stairs leading up to the floor above and
Speaker 3: the servants quarters where they had just searched. In spite
Speaker 3: of the chilliness of the night. There was something in
Speaker 3: the air of this room that cried out for an
Speaker 3: open window. But there was more than this. Shorthouse could
Speaker 3: only describe it by saying that he felt less master
Speaker 3: of himself here than in any other part of the house.
Speaker 3: There was something that acted directly on his nerves, tiring
Speaker 3: the resolution, enfeebling the will. He was conscious of this
Speaker 3: result before he had been in the room five minutes,
Speaker 3: and it was just in the short time that they
Speaker 3: stayed there that he suffered the wholesale depletion of his
Speaker 3: vital forces, which was for himself the chief horror of
Speaker 3: the whole experience. They put the candle on the floor
Speaker 3: of the cupboard, leaving the door a few inches ajar,
Speaker 3: so that there was no glare to confuse the eyes,
Speaker 3: and no shadow to shift about on walls and ceiling.
Speaker 3: Then they spread the cloak on the floor and sat
Speaker 3: down to wait with their backs against the wall. Shorthouse
Speaker 3: was within two feet of the door on to the landing.
Speaker 3: His position commanded a good view of the main staircase
Speaker 3: leading down into the darkness, and also of the beginning
Speaker 3: of the servants stairs going to the floor above. The
Speaker 3: heavy stick lay beside him within easy reach. The moon
Speaker 3: was now high above the house. Through the open window,
Speaker 3: they could see the comforting stars, like friendly eyes watching
Speaker 3: in the sky. One by one, the clocks of the
Speaker 3: town struck midnight, and when the sounds died away, the
Speaker 3: deep silence of a windless night fell again over everything.
Speaker 3: Only the boom of the sea, far away and lugubrious,
Speaker 3: filled the air with hollow murmurs, lugubrious near big trouble,
Speaker 3: undeclarated in Saint Deletrious.
Speaker 1: Inside the house, the silence became awful, awful, he thought,
Speaker 1: because any minute now it might be broken by sounds
Speaker 1: of portending terror. The strain of waiting told more and
Speaker 1: more severely on the nerves. They talked in whispers when
Speaker 1: they talked at all, For their voices aloud sounded queer
Speaker 1: and unnatural. A chilliness, not altogether due to the night
Speaker 1: air invaded the room and made them cold. The influences
Speaker 1: against them, whatever these might be, were slowly robbing them
Speaker 1: of self confidence and the power of decisive action. Their
Speaker 1: forces were on the wane, and the possibility of real
Speaker 1: fear took on a new and terrible meaning. He began
Speaker 1: to tremble for the elderly woman by his side, whose
Speaker 1: pluck could hardly save her. Beyond a certain extent. He
Speaker 1: heard the blood singing in his veins. It sometimes seemed
Speaker 1: so loud that he fancied it prevented his hearing properly
Speaker 1: certain other sounds that were beginning very faintly to make
Speaker 1: themselves audible in the depths of the house. Every time
Speaker 1: he fastened his attention on the sounds, they instantly ceased.
Speaker 1: They certainly came no nearer. Yet he could not rid
Speaker 1: himself of the idea that movement was going on somewhere
Speaker 1: in the lower regions of the house. The drawing room floor,
Speaker 1: where the doors had been so strangely closed, seemed too near.
Speaker 1: The sounds were further off than that. He thought of
Speaker 1: the great kitchen with the scurrying black beetles, and of
Speaker 1: the dismal little scullery, But somehow or other it did
Speaker 1: not seem to come from there either. Surely they were
Speaker 1: not outside the house. Then suddenly the truth flashed into
Speaker 1: his mind, and for the space of a minute he
Speaker 1: felt as if his blood had stopped flowing and turned
Speaker 1: to ice. The sounds were not downstairs at all. They
Speaker 1: were upstairs, upstairs, somewhere among those horrid, gloomy little servants
Speaker 1: rooms with their bits of broken furniture, low ceilings and
Speaker 1: cramped windows, upstairs where the victim had first been disturbed
Speaker 1: and stalked her to death. And the moment he discovered
Speaker 1: where the sounds were, he began to hear them more clearly.
Speaker 1: It was the sound of feet moving stealthily along the
Speaker 1: passage over head, in and out among the rooms and
Speaker 1: pasted the furniture.
Speaker 3: He turned quickly to steal a glance at the motionless
Speaker 3: figure seated beside him to note whether she had shared
Speaker 3: his discovery. The faint candlelight coming through the crack in
Speaker 3: the cupboard door, through her strongly marked face into a
Speaker 3: vivid relief against the white of the wall. But it
Speaker 3: was something else that made him catch his breath and
Speaker 3: stare again. An extraordinary something had come into her face
Speaker 3: and seemed to spread over her features like a mask.
Speaker 3: It smoothed out the deep lines and drew the skin
Speaker 3: everywhere a little tighter, so that the wrinkles disappeared. It
Speaker 3: brought into the face, with the sole exception of the
Speaker 3: old eyes, an appearance of youth and almost of childhood.
Speaker 3: He stared in speechless amazement, amazement that was dangerously near
Speaker 3: to horror. It was his aunt's face, indeed, but it
Speaker 3: was her face of forty years ago, the vacant, innocent
Speaker 3: face of a girl. He had heard stories of that
Speaker 3: strange effect of terror, which could wipe a human countenance
Speaker 3: clean of other emotions, obliterating all previous expressions, but he
Speaker 3: had never realized that it could be literally true, or
Speaker 3: could mean anything so simply horrible as what he now saw.
Speaker 3: For the dreadful signature of overmastering fear was written plainly
Speaker 3: in that utter vacancy of the girlish face beside him,
Speaker 3: And when feeling his intense gaze, she turned to look
Speaker 3: at him. He instinctively closed his eyes tightly to shut
Speaker 3: out the sight. Yet when he turned a minute later,
Speaker 3: his feelings well in hand, he saw, to his intense
Speaker 3: relief another expression. His aunt was smiling, and though the
Speaker 3: face was deathly white, the awful veil had lifted and
Speaker 3: the normal look was returning.
Speaker 1: Anything wrong was all he could think of to say
Speaker 1: at the moment, and the answer was eloquent, coming from
Speaker 1: such an old woman.
Speaker 3: I feel cold and a little frightened.
Speaker 1: She whispered. He offered to close the window, but she
Speaker 1: seized hold of him and begged him not to leave
Speaker 1: her side, even for an instant. It's upstairs, I know,
Speaker 1: she whispered, with an odd half laugh.
Speaker 3: But I can't possibly go up.
Speaker 1: But short, how else thought otherwise, Knowing that in action
Speaker 1: lay their best hope of self control, he took the
Speaker 1: brandy flask and poured out a glass of neat spirit,
Speaker 1: stiff enough to help anybody over anything. It's a good move.
Speaker 1: She swallowed it with a little shiver. His only idea
Speaker 1: now was to get out of the house before her
Speaker 1: collapse became inevitable. But this could not safely be done
Speaker 1: by turning tail and running from the enemy, an action
Speaker 1: was no longer possible. Every minute he was growing less
Speaker 1: master of himself, and desperate. Aggressive measures were imperative without
Speaker 1: further delay. Moreover, the action must be taken towards the enemy,
Speaker 1: not away from it. The climax, if necessary and unavoidable,
Speaker 1: would have to be faced boldly. He could do it now,
Speaker 1: but in ten minutes he might not have the force
Speaker 1: left to act for himself, much less for both. Upstairs,
Speaker 1: the sounds were meanwhile becoming louder and closer, accompanied by
Speaker 1: the occasional creaking of the boards. Someone was moving stille
Speaker 1: healthily about, stumbling now and then awkwardly against the furniture,
Speaker 1: Waiting a few moments to allow the tremendous dose of
Speaker 1: spirits to produce its effect, and knowing this would last
Speaker 1: but a short time under the circumstances, Shorthouse then quietly
Speaker 1: got on his feet, saying in a determined voice, Now,
Speaker 1: Aunt Julia, we'll go upstairs and find out what all
Speaker 1: this noise is about. You must come too. It's what
Speaker 1: we agreed. See he's gotten a little whiskey in his belly.
Speaker 3: Yeah, he's a little drunk, and he's like.
Speaker 1: Get your butt up here, right, You drug me into.
Speaker 3: This, yeah, Brandy says the day again, He picked up
Speaker 3: his stick and went to the cupboard for the candle.
Speaker 3: A limp form rose shakily beside him, breathing hard, and
Speaker 3: he heard a voice say, very faintly something about being
Speaker 3: ready to come. The woman's courage amazed him. It was
Speaker 3: so much greater than his own. And as they advanced,
Speaker 3: holding aloft the dripping candle, some subtle force exhaled from
Speaker 3: this trembling, white faced old woman at his side. That
Speaker 3: was the true source of his inspiration. It held something
Speaker 3: really great that shamed him and gave him the support
Speaker 3: without which he would have proved far less. Equal to
Speaker 3: the occasion, they crossed the dark landing, avoiding with their
Speaker 3: eyes the deep black space over the banisters. Then they
Speaker 3: began to mount the narrow staircase to meet the sounds,
Speaker 3: which minute by minute grew louder and nearer. About halfway
Speaker 3: up the stairs, Aunt Julius stumbled, and Shorthouse turned to
Speaker 3: catch her by the arm, and just at that moment
Speaker 3: there came a terrific crash in the servant's corridor overhead.
Speaker 3: It was instantly followed by a shrill, agonized scream that
Speaker 3: was a cry of terror and a cry for help
Speaker 3: melted into one. Before they could move aside or go
Speaker 3: down a single step, someone came rushing along the passage overhead,
Speaker 3: blundering horribly, racing madly at full speed, three steps at
Speaker 3: a time down the very staircase where they stood. The
Speaker 3: steps were light and uncertain, but behind them sounded the
Speaker 3: heavier tread of another person, and the staircase seemed to shake.
Speaker 3: Shorthouse and his companion just had time to flatten themselves
Speaker 3: against the wall when the jumble of flying steps was
Speaker 3: upon them, and two persons with the slightest possible interval
Speaker 3: between them, dashed past at full speed. It was a
Speaker 3: perfect whirlwind of sound, breaking in upon the midnight silence
Speaker 3: of the empty building. The two runners, pursuer and pursued,
Speaker 3: had passed clean through them where they stood, and already
Speaker 3: worth a thud. The boards below had received the first one,
Speaker 3: then the other. Yet they had seen absolutely nothing, not
Speaker 3: a hand or an arm, or a face, or even
Speaker 3: a shred of flying clothing. Then came a second's pause,
Speaker 3: then the first one, the lighter of the two, obviously
Speaker 3: the pursued one, ran with uncertain footsteps into the little
Speaker 3: room which Shorthouse and his aunt had just left, the
Speaker 3: heavier one following There was a sound of scuffly gasping
Speaker 3: and smothered screaming, and then out on the landing came
Speaker 3: the step of a single person treading.
Speaker 1: A dead silence followed for the space of half a minute,
Speaker 1: and then was heard a rushing sound through the air.
Speaker 1: It was followed by a dull, crashing thud in the
Speaker 1: depths of the house below. On the stone floor of
Speaker 1: the hall, utter silence reigned. After nothing moved. The flame
Speaker 1: of the candle was steady, it had been steady the
Speaker 1: whole time, and the air had been undisturbed by any
Speaker 1: movement whatsoever. Palsied with terror, Aunt Julia, without waiting for
Speaker 1: her companion, began fumbling her way downstairs. She was crying
Speaker 1: gently to herself, and when Shorthouse put his arm round
Speaker 1: her and half carried her, he felt that she was
Speaker 1: trembling like a leaf. He went into the little room
Speaker 1: and picked up the cloak from the floor and arm
Speaker 1: in arm, walking very slowly, without speaking a word or
Speaker 1: looking once behind them, they marched down the three flights
Speaker 1: into the hall. In the hall, they saw nothing but
Speaker 1: the whole way down the stairs, they were conscious that
Speaker 1: someone followed them step by step. When they went back,
Speaker 1: it was left behind, and when they went more slowly,
Speaker 1: it caught them up. But never once did they look
Speaker 1: behind to see. And at each turning of the staircase
Speaker 1: they lowered their eyes for fear of the following horror
Speaker 1: they might see upon the stairs above. With trembling hands,
Speaker 1: Shorthouse opened the front door, and they walked out into
Speaker 1: the moonlight and drew a deep breath of the cool
Speaker 1: night air blowing in from the sea.
Speaker 3: Wow. They made it out.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and sounds like the stable man threw the girl
Speaker 1: over the banister once again.
Speaker 3: I have a feeling he does that every night, you
Speaker 3: think so, or at the very least on the anniversary
Speaker 3: of the night of the murder.
Speaker 1: Yeah.
Speaker 3: And the how ghosts work?
Speaker 1: Yeah, creepy stuff, good stuff, good one.
Speaker 3: Congratulations, Congratulations to you too, sir, Jerry.
Speaker 1: Fine Shorthouse, Jerry can't wait too. And you're a fine
Speaker 1: aunt leaf shaky lady. Yeah, sure, Jerry can't wait to
Speaker 1: hear the sound design always a treat for us.
Speaker 3: Yeah, and everyone out there. If you like this, Algernon
Speaker 3: Blackwood has a lot of other good stuff. Yeah, check
Speaker 3: it out and have a really happy Halloween.
Speaker 1: Yeah, be safe out there.
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