beyond the great stairway, were the bedrooms of Sir Simon and his dame. They stood across the hall each from the other and must indeed have been very large. As it happened, however, I never managed to find out. The reason for this remained vague in my mind; in any case
(If this seems confusing to you, reader, so does it also still to me.)
“I remember that I was crossing the great open space at the top of the stairway,” said she, ”when of a sudden my attention was drawn down the wide stairs to the ground floor-by a noise of some sort, probably. Since it was the absence of noise in the house that had drawn me out of my room, a noise of the wrong sort might well send me scurrying back into it. I had no wish to be caught out. And so I stood quite still and waited, listening and staring down into the dark. I must have stood so for well over a minute, more likely two or three-for a very long time, anyway-until I was at last satisfied that I might go on. During that long wait, I had decided that I should just take a peek inside the two rooms and then be out the front door and up the hill to the chalk mine. That was what I wished to investigate; there was some purpose in that; what I had been up to until then was nosiness, pure and simple. Yet when I turned back to proceed toward the far end of the hall, I saw something I’m still a bit uncertain as to what it was- though I’ve a good idea.
“It was at the farthest end of the hall-just movement at first, but then it seemed to come closer, for it seemed to take shape before my eyes. How would I describe it? Well, it was a man, right enough, but he was dressed very odd. He wore great baggy trousers and big boots, and upon his head was a round hat with a wide brim. Taken in total, he looked like one who had stepped right out of the last century. There was the brimstone smell, too: that of sulphur, which gives a proper stink. It was the Grenville Ghost, right down to the last detail-and that made me suspicious. It was all a bit too perfect-or so it seemed to me-and there was one other matter which did not quite tally: the ghost looked a bit too much like Will Fowler-same general appearance, and in the face, well, in spite of the awful chalky paint he wore, I saw Will Fowler’s features. I believe he had dressed up in that outlandish garb just to frighten me back into my room. And so what did I do? I ran-but not back into my room-oh, no. I ran fast as I could down the stairs and out the door. I would not be kept any longer from that chalk mine!
“Circling the house, I passed the stable, which was so quiet that I was quite certain that every horse in it had been saddled and ridden out in company with Sir Simon. From there, I found my way to the garden and the garden path, which led upward to the chalk mine. I shivered a bit as I worked my way up the path; nor was that surprising, for the wrapper I wore was never intended to keep me warm in the cold night air, and it covered naught but a cotton nightgown. As I approached the out-buildings, I slowed and attempted to walk as soft as my slippers allowed. What I had seen of the rough sort of men who lived in them was enough to tell me that I wanted nothing to do with them. Yet I continued to climb the path, even as it penetrated the wooded area above the out- buildings. There it became deep dark and most frightening to me. Were it not for the abundance of chalk that filled the path and caught the light of the moon, I might have lost my way entirely. Still, I did not, and as I continued, I saw ahead of me a flickering light of no great intensity, which drew me on. As I drew closer, I saw that it marked the entrance to the mine. There was no candle placed in front to give to all a warning. But just within the tunnel which led into the hill of chalk, a candle-holder had been placed and a candle burned brightly. To my eye it seemed to have about an hour left upon it. I proceeded cautiously, listening at every step for any sound that might carry with it the threat of discovery.
“Perhaps I listened too carefully and did not watch close enough. In any case, I moved ahead with my attention upon the night sounds about me and my eyes fixed upon the entrance to the mine just across an open space about two rods wide. Therefore was I most astonished when, from my right, a dark-dressed figure leapt from behind a tree and grasped me by my shoulders and head. At first 1 thought I had been attacked by a wild animal of some sort-and at that I let out as loud a scream as ever I have screamed. Then a hand covered my mouth-and in a way I was glad of that, for it was a hand after all, and not a paw. What was I to do? Whoever it was who held me was much stronger than I was. I had only to struggle a bit to be certain of that.
And so I attempted a clever maneuver that is very popular with all the ladies in the romances: I fainted.
“I’ve no idea how long I was unconscious, nor in all truth just how unconscious I was. Though I saw nothing, I was vaguely aware of voices-male voices-and a strange smell that seemed to permeate the air round me. It was a most remarkable smell: sweet and heavy, as a whole wag-onload of flowers. I could still smell it when I became conscious.”
“And where was that? Where did you become conscious?” I asked, interrupting her story for the first time. ”Were you in the tunnel? What did you see?”
“Oh no, not in the tunnel, not in the mine-though I had the feeling I had been there.” She sighed. ”I’m afraid I did not come to myself until Will Fowler had me halfway to the house.”
“He was carrying you?”
“Well… yes. You did that once, or don’t you remember?”
“But you were younger then.”
“And so were you.” She was about to say more but held her tongue, looked at me queerly, and returned to the subject at hand: ”He’s quite strong, you know. Will Fowler, that is. Nevertheless, I insisted that he put me down.”
“That’s good,” said I.
“I assured him that I was quite capable of walking on my own two feet. He seemed to doubt me, but I assured him it was so, and reluctantly he let me try my feet on the path. It was odd, though. I wasn’t near as steady as I expected. I seemed to need his support all the way to the house.”
“Oh, you did, did you?”
“Which was rather annoying, after all-though not near as annoying as hearing from him that I’d been sleepwalking, and that he’d found me collapsed upon the garden path. That
“Think now,” said I, ”did he wear still any bits of the ghost’s costume? Did you detect any of that white paint he wore upon his face?”
She gave but a moment’s thought to it and decided he had not. ”No,” said she, ”I would have noticed those baggy trousers and those floppy boots, right enough. And as for that chalky stuff he wore upon his face, it would surely have glowed still as it did in the house. He managed to change his costume and wipe his face before he rescued me.”
“Rescued you? Do you feel you were in any real danger?”
“Why, how am I to know the intentions of that ill-mannered man who jumped out at me from behind that tree?”
“Mr. Fowler must’ve changed his clothing very quickly.”
“Hmmm. Yes,” said she, ”he must’ve.”
“Or you must’ve been unconscious far longer than you seem to think.”
“I see what you mean.” She hesitated. ”Yes, well, I must think about that.”
And so saying, she lapsed into silence.
Even with Clarissa’s tale-telling and the talk between us that followed, it seemed that we had only just reached the outskirts of Deal. Having then little upon which to concentrate my attention, I promptly fell asleep. And why not? By my own reckoning, never had so much happened in so short a space of time-not to me, in any case, nor even to those round me.
I did not wake till given a gentle shake by Mick Crawly.
“We’re here, lad,” said he. ”Right here in Middle Street-Number Eighteen.”
I blinked my eyes and saw that Clarissa was no longer in the coach.
”Where did she go?” I asked.
“The young miss? She had me let her off at the inn-the Good King George in High Street. She said you’d be going on to this address in Middle Street. Did I get it right? This is where I picked you up the other night, an’t it?”
I nodded and struggled from my seat and out the door of the coach which he held for me. Then, sighing, coughing, still only half awake, I managed to count out the trifling sum he requested and included a bit extra for an ale or two. Then did I look up at the door and see our baggage had been set out upon the doorstep and added
