three ghost stories-第7章

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piece　in　his　portmanteau。　　He　had　also　volunteered　to　bring　with　him

one　〃Nat　Beaver；〃　an　old　comrade　of　his；　captain　of　a　merchantman。

Mr。　Beaver；　with　a　thick…set　wooden　face　and　figure；　and　apparently

as　hard　as　a　block　all　over；　proved　to　be　an　intelligent　man；　with　a

world　of　watery　experiences　in　him；　and　great　practical　knowledge。

At　times；　there　was　a　curious　nervousness　about　him；　apparently　the

lingering　result　of　some　old　illness；　but；　it　seldom　lasted　many

minutes。　　He　got　the　Cupboard　Room；　and　lay　there　next　to　Mr。

Undery；　my　friend　and　solicitor：　　who　came　down；　in　an　amateur

capacity；　〃to　go　through　with　it；〃　as　he　said；　and　who　plays　whist

better　than　the　whole　Law　List；　from　the　red　cover　at　the　beginning

to　the　red　cover　at　the　end。



I　never　was　happier　in　my　life；　and　I　believe　it　was　the　universal

feeling　among　us。　　Jack　Governor；　always　a　man　of　wonderful

resources；　was　Chief　Cook；　and　made　some　of　the　best　dishes　I　ever

ate；　including　unapproachable　curries。　　My　sister　was　pastrycook　and

confectioner。　　Starling　and　I　were　Cook's　Mate；　turn　and　turn　about；

and　on　special　occasions　the　chief　cook　〃pressed〃　Mr。　Beaver。　　We

had　a　great　deal　of　out…door　sport　and　exercise；　but　nothing　was

neglected　within；　and　there　was　no　ill…humour　or　misunderstanding

among　us；　and　our　evenings　were　so　delightful　that　we　had　at　least

one　good　reason　for　being　reluctant　to　go　to　bed。



We　had　a　few　night　alarms　in　the　beginning。　　On　the　first　night；　I

was　knocked　up　by　Jack　with　a　most　wonderful　ship's　lantern　in　his

hand；　like　the　gills　of　some　monster　of　the　deep；　who　informed　me

that　he　〃was　going　aloft　to　the　main　truck；〃　to　have　the　weathercock

down。　　It　was　a　stormy　night　and　I　remonstrated；　but　Jack　called　my

attention　to　its　making　a　sound　like　a　cry　of　despair；　and　said

somebody　would　be　〃hailing　a　ghost〃　presently；　if　it　wasn't　done。

So；　up　to　the　top　of　the　house；　where　I　could　hardly　stand　for　the

wind；　we　went；　accompanied　by　Mr。　Beaver；　and　there　Jack；　lantern

and　all；　with　Mr。　Beaver　after　him；　swarmed　up　to　the　top　of　a

cupola；　some　two　dozen　feet　above　the　chimneys；　and　stood　upon

nothing　particular；　coolly　knocking　the　weathercock　off；　until　they

both　got　into　such　good　spirits　with　the　wind　and　the　height；　that　I

thought　they　would　never　come　down。　　Another　night；　they　turned　out

again；　and　had　a　chimney…cowl　off。　　Another　night；　they　cut　a

sobbing　and　gulping　water…pipe　away。　　Another　night；　they　found　out

something　else。　　On　several　occasions；　they　both；　in　the　coolest

manner；　simultaneously　dropped　out　of　their　respective　bedroom

windows；　hand　over　hand　by　their　counterpanes；　to　〃overhaul〃

something　mysterious　in　the　garden。



The　engagement　among　us　was　faithfully　kept；　and　nobody　revealed

anything。　　All　we　knew　was；　if　any　one's　room　were　haunted；　no　one

looked　the　worse　for　it。







CHAPTER　IITHE　GHOST　IN　MASTER　B。'S　ROOM







When　I　established　myself　in　the　triangular　garret　which　had　gained

so　distinguished　a　reputation；　my　thoughts　naturally　turned　to

Master　B。　　My　speculations　about　him　were　uneasy　and　manifold。

Whether　his　Christian　name　was　Benjamin；　Bissextile　（from　his　having

been　born　in　Leap　Year）；　Bartholomew；　or　Bill。　　Whether　the　initial

letter　belonged　to　his　family　name；　and　that　was　Baxter；　Black；

Brown；　Barker；　Buggins；　Baker；　or　Bird。　　Whether　he　was　a　foundling；

and　had　been　baptized　B。　　Whether　he　was　a　lion…hearted　boy；　and　B。

was　short　for　Briton；　or　for　Bull。　　Whether　he　could　possibly　have

been　kith　and　kin　to　an　illustrious　lady　who　brightened　my　own

childhood；　and　had　come　of　the　blood　of　the　brilliant　Mother　Bunch？



With　these　profitless　meditations　I　tormented　myself　much。　　I　also

carried　the　mysterious　letter　into　the　appearance　and　pursuits　of

the　deceased；　wondering　whether　he　dressed　in　Blue；　wore　Boots　（he

couldn't　have　been　Bald）；　was　a　boy　of　Brains；　liked　Books；　was　good

at　Bowling；　had　any　skill　as　a　Boxer；　even　in　his　Buoyant　Boyhood

Bathed　from　a　Bathing…machine　at　Bognor；　Bangor；　Bournemouth；

Brighton；　or　Broadstairs；　like　a　Bounding　Billiard　Ball？



So；　from　the　first；　I　was　haunted　by　the　letter　B。



It　was　not　long　before　I　remarked　that　I　never　by　any　hazard　had　a

dream　of　Master　B。；　or　of　anything　belonging　to　him。　　But；　the

instant　I　awoke　from　sleep；　at　whatever　hour　of　the　night；　my

thoughts　took　him　up；　and　roamed　away；　trying　to　attach　his　initial

letter　to　something　that　would　fit　it　and　keep　it　quiet。



For　six　nights；　I　had　been　worried　this　in　Master　B。's　room；　when　I

began　to　perceive　that　things　were　going　wrong。



The　first　appearance　that　presented　itself　was　early　in　the　morning

when　it　was　but　just　daylight　and　no　more。　　I　was　standing　shaving

at　my　glass；　when　I　suddenly　discovered；　to　my　consternation　and

amazement；　that　I　was　shavingnot　myselfI　am　fiftybut　a　boy。

Apparently　Master　B。！



I　trembled　and　looked　over　my　shoulder；　nothing　there。　　I　looked

again　in　the　glass；　and　distinctly　saw　the　features　and　expression

of　a　boy；　who　was　shaving；　not　to　get　rid　of　a　beard；　but　to　get

one。　　Extremely　troubled　in　my　mind；　I　took　a　few　turns　in　the　room；

and　went　back　to　the　looking…glass；　resolved　to　steady　my　hand　and

complete　the　operation　in　which　I　had　been　disturbed。　　Opening　my

eyes；　which　I　had　shut　while　recovering　my　firmness；　I　now　met　in

the　glass；　looking　straight　at　me；　the　eyes　of　a　young　man　of　four

or　five　and　twenty。　　Terrified　by　this　new　ghost；　I　closed　my　eyes；

and　made　a　strong　effort　to　recover　myself。　　Opening　them　again；　I

saw；　shaving　his　cheek　in　the　glass；　my　father；　who　has　long　been

dead。　　Nay；　I　even　saw　my　grandfather　too；　whom　I　never　did　see　in

my　life。



Although　naturally　much　affected　by　these　remarkable　visitations；　I

determined　to　keep　my　secret；　until　the　time　agreed　upon　for　the

present　general　disclosure。　　Agitated　by　a　multitude　of　curious

thoughts；　I　retired　to　my　room；　that　night；　prepared　to　encounter

some　new　experience　of　a　spectral　character。　　Nor　was　my　preparation

needless；　for；　waking　from　an　uneasy　sleep　at　exactly　two　o'clock　in

the　morning；　what　were　my　feelings　to　find　that　I　was　sharing　my　bed

with　the　skeleton　of　Master　B。！



I　sprang　up；　and　the　skeleton　sprang　up　also。　　I　then　heard　a

plaintive　voice　saying；　〃Where　am　I？　　What　is　become　of　me？〃　and；

looking　hard　in　that　direction；　perceived　the　ghost　of　Master　B。



The　young　spectre　was　dressed　in　an　obsolete　fashion：　　or　rather；

was　not　so　much　dressed　as　put　into　a　case　of　inferior　pepper…and…

salt　cloth；　made　horrible　by　means　of　shining　buttons。　　I　observed

that　these　buttons　went；　in　a　double　row；　over　each　shoulder　of　the

young　ghost；　and　appeared　to　descend　his　back。　　He　wore　a　frill

round　his　neck。　　His　right　hand　（which　I　distinctly　noticed　to　be

inky）　was　laid　upon　his　stomach；　connecting　this　action　with　some

feeble　pimples　on　his　countenance；　and　his　general　air　of　nausea；　I

concluded　this　ghost　to　be　the　ghost　of　a　boy　who　had　habitually

taken　a　great　deal　too　much　medicine。



〃Where　am　I？〃　said　the　little　spectre；　in　a　pathetic　voice。　　〃And

why　was　I　born　in　the　Calomel　days；　and　why　did　I　have　all　that

Calomel　given　me？〃



I　replied；　with　sincere　earnestness；　that　upon　my　soul　I　couldn't

tell　him。



〃Where　is　my　little　sister；〃　said　the　ghost；　〃and　where　my　angelic

little　wife；　and　where　is　the　boy　I　went　to　school　with？〃



I　entreated　the　phantom　to　be　comforted；　and　above　all　things　to

take　heart　respecting　the　loss　of　the　boy　he　went　to　school　with。　　I

represented　to　him　that　probably　that　boy　never　did；　within　human

experience；　come　out　well；　when　discovered。　　I　urged　that　I　myself

had；　in　later　life；　turned　up　several　boys　whom　I　went　to　school

with；　and　none　of　them　had　at　all　answered。　　I　expressed　my　humble

belief　that　that　boy　never　did　answer。　　I　represented　that　he　was　a

mythic　character；　a　delusion；　and　a　snare。　　I　recounted　how；　the

last　time　I　found　him；　I　found　him　at　a　dinner　party　behind　a　wall

of　white　cravat；　with　an　inconclusive　opinion　on　every　possible

subject；　and　a　power　of　silent　boredom　absolutely　Titanic。　　I

related　how；　on　the　strength　of　our　having　been　together　at　〃Old

Doylance's；〃　he　had　asked　himself　to　breakfast　with　me　（a　social

offence　of　the　largest　magnitude）；　how；　fanning　my　weak　embers　of

belief　in　Doylance's　boys；　I　had　let　him　in；　and　how；　he　had　proved

to　be　a　fearful　wanderer　about　the　earth；　pursuing　the　race　of　Adam

with　inexplicable　notions　concerning　the　currency；　and　with　a

proposition　that　the　Bank　of　England　should；　on　pain　of　being

abolished；　instantly　strike　off　and　circulate；　God　knows　how　many

thousand　millions　of　ten…and…sixpenny　notes。



The　ghost　heard　me　in　silence；　and　with　a　fixed　stare。　　〃Barber！〃　it

apostrophised　me　when　I　had　finished。



〃Barber？〃　I　repeatedfor　I　am　not　of　that　profession。



〃Condemned；〃　said　the　ghost；　〃to　shave　a　constant　change　of

customersnow；　menow；　a　young　mannow；　thyself　as　thou　artnow；

thy　fathernow；　thy　grandfather；　condemned；　too；　to　lie　down　with　a

skeleton　every　night；　and　to　rise　with　it　every　morning〃



（I　shuddered　on　hearing　this　dismal　announcement。）



〃Barber！　　Pursue　me！〃



I　had　felt；　even　before　the　words　were　uttered；　that　I　was　under　a

spell　to　pursue　the　phantom。　　I　immediately　did　so；　and　was　in

Master　B。's　room　no　longer。



Most　people　know　what　long　and　fatiguing　night　journeys　had　been

forced　upon　the　witches　who　used　to　confess；　and　who；　no　doubt；　told

the　exact　truthparticularly　as　they　were　always　assisted　with

leading　questions；　and　the　Torture　was　always　ready。　　I　asseverate

that；　during　my　occupation　of　Master　B。's　room；　I　was　taken　by　the

ghost　that　haunted　it；　on　expeditions　fully　as　long　and　wild　as　any

of　those。　　Assuredly；　I　was　presented　to　no　shabby　old　man　with　a

goat's　horns　and　tail　（something　between　Pan　and　an　old　clothesman）；

holding　conventional　receptions；　as　stupid　as　those　of　real　life　and

less　decent；　but；　I　came　upon　other　things　which　appeared　to　me　to

have　more　meaning。



Confident　that　I　speak　the　truth　and　shall　be　believed；　I　declare

without　hesitation　that　I　followed　the　ghost；　in　the　first　instance

on　a　broom…stick；　and　afterwards　on　a　rocking…horse。　　The　very　smell

of　the　animal's　paintespecially　when　I　brought　it　out；　by　making

him　warmI　am　ready　to　swear　to。　　I　followed　the　ghost；　afterwards；

in　a　hackney　coach；　an　institution　with　the　peculiar　smell　of　which；

the　present　generation　is　unacquainted；　but　to　which　I　am　again

ready　to　swear　as　a　combination　of　stable；　dog　with　the　mange；　and

very　old　bellows。　　（In　this；　I　appeal　to　previous　generations　to

confirm　or　refute　me。）　　I　pursued　the　phantom；　on　a　headless　donkey：

at　least；　upon　a　donkey　who　was　so　interested　in　the　state　of　his

stomach　that　his　head　was　always　down　there；