The Canterville Ghost

Chapter 1

When Mr. Hiram B. Otis, the American Minister, bought Canterville Chase,

every one told him he was doing a very foolish thing, as there was no

doubt at all that the place was haunted. Indeed, Lord Canterville

himself, who was a man of the most punctilious honour, had felt it his

duty to mention the fact to Mr. Otis when they came to discuss terms.

"We have not cared to live in the place ourselves," said Lord

Canterville, "since my grandaunt, the Dowager Duchess of Bolton, was

frightened into a fit, from which she never really recovered, by two

skeleton hands being placed on her shoulders as she was dressing for

dinner, and I feel bound to tell you, Mr. Otis, that the ghost has been

seen by several living members of my family, as well as by the rector of

the parish, the Rev. Augustus Dampier, who is a Fellow of King's

College, Cambridge. After the unfortunate accident to the Duchess, none

of our younger servants would stay with us, and Lady Canterville often

got very little sleep at night, in consequence of the mysterious noises

that came from the corridor and the library."

"My Lord," answered the Minister, "I will take the furniture and the

ghost at a valuation. I have come from a modern country, where we have

everything that money can buy; and with all our spry young fellows

painting the Old World red, and carrying off your best actors and

prima-donnas, I reckon that if there were such a thing as a ghost in

Europe, we'd have it at home in a very short time in one of our public

museums, or on the road as a show."

"I fear that the ghost exists," said Lord Canterville, smiling, "though

it may have resisted the overtures of your enterprising impresarios. It

has been well known for three centuries, since 1584 in fact, and always

makes its appearance before the death of any member of our family."

"Well, so does the family doctor for that matter, Lord Canterville. But

there is no such thing, sir, as a ghost, and I guess the laws of Nature

are not going to be suspended for the British aristocracy."

"You are certainly very natural in America," answered Lord Canterville,

who did not quite understand Mr. Otis's last observation, "and if you

don't mind a ghost in the house, it is all right. Only you must remember

I warned you."

[Illustration: MISS VIRGINIA E. OTIS]

A few weeks after this, the purchase was concluded, and at the close of

the season the Minister and his family went down to Canterville Chase.

Mrs. Otis, who, as Miss Lucretia R. Tappan, of West 53d Street, had been

a celebrated New York belle, was now a very handsome, middle-aged woman,

with fine eyes, and a superb profile. Many American ladies on leaving

their native land adopt an appearance of chronic ill-health, under the

impression that it is a form of European refinement, but Mrs. Otis had

never fallen into this error. She had a magnificent constitution, and a

really wonderful amount of animal spirits. Indeed, in many respects, she

was quite English, and was an excellent example of the fact that we

have really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of

course, language. Her eldest son, christened Washington by his parents

in a moment of patriotism, which he never ceased to regret, was a

fair-haired, rather good-looking young man, who had qualified himself

for American diplomacy by leading the German at the Newport Casino for

three successive seasons, and even in London was well known as an

excellent dancer. Gardenias and the peerage were his only weaknesses.

Otherwise he was extremely sensible. Miss Virginia E. Otis was a little

girl of fifteen, lithe and lovely as a fawn, and with a fine freedom

in her large blue eyes. She was a wonderful sss, and had once raced

old Lord Bilton on her pony twice round the park, winning by a length

and a half, just in front of the Achilles statue, to the huge delight of

the young Duke of Cheshire, who proposed for her on the spot, and was

sent back to Eton that very night by his guardians, in floods of tears.

After Virginia came the twins, who were usually called "The Star and

Stripes," as they were always getting swished. They were delightful

boys, and, with the exception of the worthy Minister, the only true

republicans of the family.

[Illustration: "HAD ONCE RACED OLD LORD BILTON ON HER PONY"]

As Canterville Chase is seven miles from Ascot, the nearest railway

station, Mr. Otis had telegraphed for a waggonette to meet them, and

they started on their drive in high spirits. It was a lovely July

evening, and the air was delicate with the scent of the pinewoods. Now

and then they heard a wood-pigeon brooding over its own sweet voice, or

saw, deep in the rustling fern, the burnished breast of the pheasant.

Little squirrels peered at them from the beech-trees as they went by,

and the rabbits scudded away through the brushwood and over the mossy

knolls, with their white tails in the air. As they entered the avenue of

Canterville Chase, however, the sky became suddenly overcast with

clouds, a curious stillness seemed to hold the atmosphere, a great

flight of rooks passed silently over their heads, and, before they

reached the house, some big drops of rain had fallen.

Standing on the steps to receive them was an old woman, neatly dressed

in black silk, with a white cap and apron. This was Mrs. Umney, the

housekeeper, whom Mrs. Otis, at Lady Canterville's earnest request, had

consented to keep in her former position. She made them each a low

curtsey as they alighted, and said in a quaint, old-fashioned manner,

"I bid you welcome to Canterville Chase." Following her, they passed

through the fine Tudor hall into the library, a long, low room, panelled

in black oak, at the end of which was a large stained glass window. Here

they found tea laid out for them, and, after taking off their wraps,

they sat down and began to look round, while Mrs. Umney waited on them.

Suddenly Mrs. Otis caught sight of a dull red stain on the floor just by

the fireplace, and, quite unconscious of what it really signified, said

to Mrs. Umney, "I am afraid something has been spilt there."

"Yes, madam," replied the old housekeeper in a low voice, "blood has

been spilt on that spot."

[Illustration: "BLOOD HAS BEEN SPILLED ON THAT SPOT"]

"How horrid!" cried Mrs. Otis; "I don't at all care for blood-stains in

a sitting-room. It must be removed at once."

The old woman smiled, and answered in the same low, mysterious voice,

"It is the blood of Lady Eleanore de Canterville, who was murdered on

that very spot by her own husband, Sir Simon de Canterville, in 1575.

Sir Simon survived her nine years, and disappeared suddenly under very

mysterious circumstances. His body has never been discovered, but his

guilty spirit still haunts the Chase. The blood-stain has been much

admired by tourists and others, and cannot be removed."

"That is all nonsense," cried Washington Otis; "Pinkerton's Champion

Stain Remover and Paragon Detergent will clean it up in no time," and

before the terrified housekeeper could interfere, he had fallen upon his

knees, and was rapidly scouring the floor with a small stick of what

looked like a black cosmetic. In a few moments no trace of the

blood-stain could be seen.

"I knew Pinkerton would do it," he exclaimed, triumphantly, as he

looked round at his admiring family; but no sooner had he said these

words than a terrible flash of lightning lit up the sombre room, a

fearful peal of thunder made them all start to their feet, and Mrs.

Umney fainted.

"What a monstrous climate!" said the American Minister, calmly, as he

lit a long cheroot. "I guess the old country is so overpopulated that

they have not enough decent weather for everybody. I have always been of

opinion that emigration is the only thing for England."

"My dear Hiram," cried Mrs. Otis, "what can we do with a woman who

faints?"

"Charge it to her like breakages," answered the Minister; "she won't

faint after that;" and in a few moments Mrs. Umney certainly came to.

There was no doubt, however, that she was extremely upset, and she

sternly warned Mr. Otis to beware of some trouble coming to the house.

"I have seen things with my own eyes, sir," she said, "that would make

any Christian's hair stand on end, and many and many a night I have not

closed my eyes in sleep for the awful things that are done here." Mr.

Otis, however, and his wife warmly assured the honest soul that they

were not afraid of ghosts, and, after invoking the blessings of

Providence on her new master and mistress, and making arrangements for

an increase of salary, the old housekeeper tottered off to her own room.