From time to time I felt my pulse and
took my temperature to make sure that I was perfectly normal, whilst
at one o'clock, the hour when human vitality begins to be on the wane,
I ate some chicken and ham sandwiches, which I helped down with a
single glass of oatmeal stout. So far, beyond my feeling that there
was a superphysical something in the house, nothing had occurred. There had not been the slightest attempt at manifestation, and, as the
minutes sped swiftly by I began to fear that, perhaps, after all the
hauntings were only of a negative nature. As the clock struck two,
however, Scott gave an extra savage snarl, and the next moment came
racing downstairs. Darting along the passage and tearing towards me,
he scrambled up the overturned drawers, and, burying his face in my
lap, set up the most piteous whinings. A sensation of icy coldness,
such as could not have been due to any physical cause, now surged
through me; and, as I got out my pocket flashlight ready for
emergencies, I heard an unmistakable rustling in the cellar opposite. At once my whole attention became riveted in the direction of this
sound, and, as I sat gazing fixedly in front of me, the darkness was
suddenly dissipated and the whole passage, from one end to the other,
was illuminated by a phosphorescent glow; which glow I can best
describe as bearing a close resemblance, in kind though not in degree,
to the glow of a glow-worm. I then saw the scullery door slowly begin
to open. A hideous fear seized me. What--what in the name of Heaven
should I see? Transfixed with terror, unable to move or utter a
sound, I crouched against the wall paralysed, helpless; whilst the
door opened wider and wider. At last, at last after an interval which to me was eternity,
Something, an as yet indefinite shadowy Something, loomed in the
background of the enlargening space. My suspense was now sublime, and
I felt that another second or so of such tension would assuredly see
me swoon. The shadowy Something, however, quickly developed, and, in less time
than it takes to write, it assumed the form of a woman--a middle-aged
woman with a startlingly white face, straight nose, and curiously
lined mouth, the two front upper teeth of which projected considerably
and were very long. Her hair was black, her hands coarse, and red, and
she was clad in the orthodox shabby print of a general servant in some
middle-class family. The expression in her wide-open, glassy blue eyes
as they glared into mine was one of such intense mental and physical
agony that I felt every atom of blood in my veins congeal. Creeping
stealthily forward, her gaze still on me, she emerged from the
doorway, and motioning to me to follow, glided up the staircase. Up,
up, we went, the cold, grey dawn greeting us on our way. Entering the
garret to which I have already alluded, the phantasm noiselessly
approached the hearth, and, pointing downward with a violent motion of
the index finger of its right hand, suddenly vanished. A great feeling
of relief now came over me, and, yielding to a reaction which was the
inevitable consequence of such a severe nervous strain, I reeled
against the window-sill and shook with laughter. Equanimity at length reasserting itself, I carefully marked the spot
on the floor, indicated by the apparition, and descending into the
basement to fetch Scott, made hurried tracks to my friends' house,
where I was allowed to sleep on till late in the day. I then returned
to the haunted house with the landlord, and my friend, and, on raising
the boarding in the garret, we discovered a stamped and addressed
envelope. As the result of our combined inquiries, we learned that a few years
previously the house had been occupied by some tradespeople of the
name of Piblington, who, some six or seven months before they left
the house, had had in their employment a servant named Anna Webb. This servant, the description of whose person corresponded in every
way with the ghost I had seen, had been suspected of stealing a letter
containing money, and had hanged herself in the cellar. The letter, I gathered, with several others, had been given to Anna to
post by Mrs. Piblington, and as no reply to the one containing money
was received, Anna was closely questioned. Naturally nervous and
highly strung, the inquisition confused her terribly, and her
embarrassment being construed into guilt, she was threatened with
prosecution. "As a proof of my innocence," she scribbled on a piece of
paper, which was produced at the subsequent inquest, "I am going to
hang myself. I never stole your letter, and can only suppose it was
lost in the post." The mere fact of the accused committing suicide would, in many
people's opinion, point to guilt; and as the postal order was never
traced, it was generally concluded that Anna had secreted it, and had
been only waiting till inquiries ceased, and the affair was forgotten,
to cash it. Of course, the letter I found was the missing one, and
although apparently hidden with intent, the fact of its never having
been opened seemed to suggest that Anna was innocent, and that the
envelope had, by some extraordinary accident, fallen unnoticed by Anna
through the crack between the boards. Anyhow, its discovery put an end
to the disturbances and the apparition of the unfortunate
suicide--whether guilty or innocent, and the Judgment Day can alone
determine that--has never been seen since. CASE XV

    THE WHITE LADY OF ROWNAM AVENUE, NEAR
      STIRLING


Like most European countries, Scotland claims its share of phantasms
in the form of "White Ladies." According to Mr. Ingram, in his
_Haunted Houses and Family Legends_, the ruins of the mansion of
Woodhouselee are haunted by a woman in white, presumably (though,
personally, I think otherwise) the ghost of Lady Hamilton of
Bothwellhaugh. This unfortunate lady, together with her baby,
was--during the temporary absence of her husband--stripped naked and
turned out of doors on a bitterly cold night, by a favourite of the
Regent Murray. As a result of this inhuman conduct the child died, and
its mother, with the corpse in her arms, was discovered in the morning
raving mad. Another instance of this particular form of apparition is
to be found in Sir Walter Scott's "White Lady of Avenel," and there
are endless others, both in reality and fiction. Some years ago, when I was putting up at a friend's house in
Edinburgh, I was introduced to a man who had had several experiences
with ghosts, and had, therefore, been especially asked to meet me. After we had talked together for some time, he related the following
adventure which had befallen him, in his childhood, in Rownam avenue
(the seat of Sir E.C. ), near Stirling:--

I was always a lover of nature, he began, and my earliest
reminiscences are associated with solitary rambles through the fields,
dells, and copses surrounding my home. I lived within a stone's-throw
of the property of old Sir E.C., who has long gone to rest--God bless
his soul!