Up, up, up they came, until I saw the dark,
indefinite shape of something very horrid, but which I could not--I dare
not--define. It was accompanied by the clanging of a pail. I tried to
scream, but my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth prevented my
uttering a syllable, and when I essayed to move, I found I was
temporarily paralysed. The thing came rushing down on me. I grew icy
cold all over, and when it was within a few feet of me, my horror was so
great, I fainted. "On recovering consciousness, it was some minutes before I summoned up
courage to open my eyes, but when I did so, they alighted on nothing but
the empty passage--the thing had disappeared. "On another occasion, when I was clandestinely paying a visit to the
unused wing, and was in the act of mounting one of the staircases
leading from the corridor, I have just described, to the first floor,
there was the sound of a furious scuffle overhead, and something dashed
down the stairs past me. I instinctively looked up, and there, glaring
down at me from over the balustrade, was a very white face. It was that
of a man, but very badly proportioned--the forehead being low and
receding, and the rest of the face too long and narrow. The crown rose
to a kind of peak, the ears were pointed and set very low down and far
back. The mouth was very cruel and thin-lipped; the teeth were yellow
and uneven. There was no hair on the face, but that on the head was red
and matted. The eyes were obliquely set, pale blue, and full of an
expression so absolutely malignant that every atom of blood in my veins
seemed to congeal as I met their gaze. I could not clearly see the body
of the thing, as it was hazy and indistinct, but the impression I got of
it was that it was clad in some sort of tight-fitting, fantastic
garment. As the landing was in semi-darkness, and the face at all events
was most startlingly visible, I concluded it brought with it a light of
its own, though there was none of that lurid glow attached to it, which
I subsequently learned is almost inseparable from spirit phenomena seen
under similar conditions. "For some seconds, I was too overcome with terror to move, but my
faculties at length reasserting themselves, I turned round and flew to
the other wing of the house with the utmost precipitation. "One would have thought that after these experiences nothing would have
induced me to have run the risk of another such encounter, yet only a
few days after the incident of the head, I was again impelled by a
fascination I could not withstand to visit the same quarters. In sickly
anticipation of what my eyes would alight on, I stole to the foot of the
staircase and peeped cautiously up. To my infinite joy there was nothing
there but a bright patch of sunshine, that, in the most unusual fashion,
had forced its way through from one of the slits of windows near at
hand. "After gazing at it long enough to assure myself it was only sunshine, I
quitted the spot, and proceeded on my way down the vaulted corridor. Just as I was passing one of the doors, it opened. I stopped--terrified. What could it be? Bit by bit, inch by inch, I watched the gap slowly
widen. At last, just as I felt I must either go mad or die, something
appeared--and, to my utter astonishment, it was a big, black cat! Limping painfully, it came towards me with a curious, gliding motion,
and I perceived with a thrill of horror that it had been very cruelly
maltreated. One of its eyes looked as if it had been gouged out--its
ears were lacerated, whilst the paw of one of its hind-legs had either
been torn or hacked off. As I drew back from it, it made a feeble and
pathetic effort to reach me and rub itself against my legs, as is the
way with cats, but in so doing it fell down, and uttering a half purr,
half gurgle, vanished--seeming to sink through the hard oak boards. "That evening my youngest brother met with an accident in the barn at
the back of the house, and died. Though I did not then associate his
death with the apparition of the cat, the latter shocked me much, for I
was extremely fond of animals. I did not dare venture in the wing again
for nearly two years. "When next I did so, it was early one June morning--between five and
six, and none of the family, saving my father, who was out in the fields
looking after his men, were as yet up. I explored the dreaded corridor
and staircase, and was crossing the floor of one of the rooms I had
hitherto regarded as immune from ghostly influences, when there was an
icy rush of wind, the door behind me slammed to violently, and a heavy
object struck me with great force in the hollow of my back. With a cry
of surprise and agony I turned sharply round, and there, lying on the
floor, stretched out in the last convulsions of death, was the big black
cat, maimed and bleeding as it had been on the previous occasion. How I
got out of the room I don't recollect. I was too horror-stricken to know
exactly what I was doing, but I distinctly remember that, as I tugged
the door open, there was a low, gleeful chuckle, and something slipped
by me and disappeared in the direction of the corridor. At noon that day
my mother had a seizure of apoplexy, and died at midnight. "Again there was a lapse of years--this time nearly four--when, sent on
an errand for my father, I turned the key of one of the doors leading
into the empty wing, and once again found myself within the haunted
precincts. All was just as it had been on the occasion of my last
visit--gloom, stillness and cobwebs reigned everywhere, whilst
permeating the atmosphere was a feeling of intense sadness and
depression. "I did what was required of me as quickly as possible, and was crossing
one of the rooms to make my exit, when a dark shadow fell athwart the
threshold of the door, and I saw the cat. *       *       *       *       *

"That evening my father dropped dead as he was hastening home through
the fields. He had long suffered from heart disease. "After his death we--that is to say, my brother, sisters and self--were
obliged to leave the house and go out into the world to earn our living. We never went there again, and never heard if any of the subsequent
tenants experienced similar manifestations." This is as nearly as I can recollect Mrs. Hartnoll's story. But as it is
a good many years since I heard it, there is just a possibility of some
of the details--the smaller ones at all events--having escaped my
memory. When I was grown up, I stayed for a few weeks near Oxenby, and met, at a
garden party, a Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, the then occupants of the Manor
House. I asked if they believed in ghosts, and told them I had always heard
their house was haunted. "Well," they said, "we never believed in ghosts till we came to Oxenby,
but we have seen and heard such strange things since we have been in the
Manor House that we are now prepared to believe anything."