SENATOR WENDELL READS "THE CREAKING OF THE STAIRS"
"After four years of luxury at the Capital there came a most disastrous change in the Administration and I lost my rather exalted position under the government. This was all the greater shock, for I had cherished the comforting idea that I was protected to some extent by the Civil Service law. However, when I recovered from the first effects of the blow I looked the situation squarely in the face, and was content with a stray crumb which fell from the opposition table. I had still some influence to command, and after superhuman exertion managed to secure a twelve-hundred-dollar clerkship.
"My wife, always cheerful under the most trying circumstances, was fully equal to this occasion.
"'Well, my love,' said she, 'of course we must give up everything here, and that will be a little trying for a while, I'll admit, but we should be thankful that you are not thrown out altogether,' adding with a tinge of melancholy, 'I don't think, though, that I could bear to live in Washington after the change. Suppose we try A—— for a while.'
"A—— is over in Maryland, about six miles from town, and very convenient trains are run between the two places. One can live quite comfortably there for very little, so my wife's suggestion was quickly adopted.
"'It reminds me of dear, dear Salem,' she said some weeks later, 'and rents are so cheap. Think of the ridiculously small price we pay for this house.'
"'Suspiciously small, you mean,' said I gloomily, not at all reconciled to my wife's choice of abode. But as my feeble protest was treated with silence I held my peace. 'Anything for a quiet life' has ever been a favorite conceit with me.
"Mrs. Ploat had taken an old-fashioned house in Queen Anne Street, large enough for a family of twenty persons. Now, as my household consisted of only my wife, her unmarried sister, and myself, I could not understand what was wanted with such capacious quarters. But I had no say in the matter. My wife fancied the house, it seemed to me, on account of its colonial air, wide halls, huge high-ceilinged rooms, and general lack of modern improvements.
"I never liked the house in Queen Anne Street, though this aversion was apparently unreasonable, for we were cosy enough after the throes of moving in and settling down were over. But it struck me from the start that there was something decidedly uncanny about the place, and a vague feeling of uneasiness became very keenly defined in me whenever I heard the creaking of the stairs.
"The stairs throughout the house had an infernal habit of creaking—one after another—as if somebody was coming up or down. At first I thought it was the rats that infested the old mansion in legions; but I abandoned this idea after a few experiments which proved conclusively that the creaking sounds could only be made by a person or thing quite as heavy, if not heavier, than myself—then tipping the beam at one hundred and eighty pounds.
"In the course of time I became personally acquainted with each stair in the Queen Anne Street house, and especially with those in the main flight. Business, or pleasure, often compelled me to keep late hours, and on such occasions, on arriving home, I would naturally try to reach my room as quietly as possible. With my shoes in my hand, and by a series of agile leaps from one less noisy stair to another, I usually succeeded in attaining the upper part of the house without much disturbance.
"The annoying sounds occurred at all hours, but were of course more noticeable at night. I am a light sleeper, and was invariably awakened by them, and this, with the loud ticking of a grandfather's clock on the first landing, usually banished further slumber, and I would arise at daybreak, weary and unrefreshed. The clock was finally stopped, after a heated discussion with my wife and sister-in-law, who regarded it with something akin to reverence. It was indeed a venerable affair. I hated the thing even when it was quiet, for it reminded me of a coffin set on end, and I would pass it in the dark hurriedly, and with averted face.
"I do not think that either my wife or sister-in-law ever heard the creaking of the stairs. If they did they never said anything about it to me. For my part, I was silent, because I did not want to be laughed at by my womenkind, and I knew also that if the matter reached the ear of our only servant she would immediately take her departure. Help is not easy to obtain in A——, and if it were known that our home was haunted we would be obliged to do all our own drudgery in future.
"This state of things continued nearly a year. Occasionally, for a week or two at a time, the creaking stopped altogether. In these intervals I slept well and improved in every way, but when the disturbances returned I became more depressed and gloomy than ever. My health was wretched at the time, and I felt that I was gradually breaking down.
"At last I determined to call upon my landlord, Doctor Matthai, and lay the trouble before him. He was born and raised in the house, and I thought it probable that he could solve the mystery, or at least suggest a remedy. Doctor Matthai lived just across the way in a quaint cottage covered with great climbing roses and set well back in a prim garden, with hollyhocks and hedges of box, and an ancient sun-dial which was my wife's never-ending delight.
"The doctor was a short, thick-set, heavily whiskered gentleman, and looked more like a retired man of affairs than the prosy recluse that he was; but he had long since ceased to take any active interest in life, and gave himself up entirely to scientific study and research of a more or less abstruse nature. A useless sort of existence, it seemed to me, as mankind was never destined, nor intended, to reap the benefits of his labor. His sister kept house for him, and had full charge of all his business matters. The doctor owned considerable property, and Miss Regina proved a capable manager; as a collector of rents she certainly had no equal—to that I can cheerfully testify. She was not popular in A——, nor was her eccentric brother. Unpleasant tales were told about Matthai. I never knew all the particulars, but they had something to do with the murder of a slave in antebellum days. The townsfolk were extremely reticent on the subject, and very mercifully so, for, as I have since learned, the tragedy occurred in our house in Queen Anne Street.
"I found Doctor Matthai in his library, immersed in study as usual; quite out of the world so far as every-day happenings were concerned. He greeted me rather coldly.
"'I beg your pardon,' said I, 'but I have come to see you about the house.'
"'My sister, Regina——' he interrupted.
"'Yes, I know,' said I, 'but this visit is to you, though I fear you will look upon what I have to say as very nonsensical and farfetched. To me, though, it is a very serious matter.'
"I dwelt at length upon the grievance; putting it as strongly as possible. The doctor listened attentively, and when I concluded, laughed and said, 'I believe you fully as to the creaking of the stairs, but you attach entirely too much importance to it. The noise results, I have no doubt, from perfectly natural causes. You must remember, sir, that the stairways are very old indeed, any jar from the movement of persons in other parts of the house, the action of the wind against the walls, or the rotting or shrinking of wood from age will produce just such sounds as you have heard. I quite fail, therefore, to see any mystery about it.'
"'However,' he continued, 'I will send a carpenter around who will probably set things to rights; that is, if the expense be not too great. I am not prepared to put a large sum of money on the house; and stairways, you know, are costly arrangements at best.' I fully agreed with him.
"'By the way,' said he, blinking at me through his thick glasses, 'there is just a bit of nervousness in your make-up, isn't there? "A little off your feed," as Regina says; liver out of shape—something of that sort, eh?' I confessed that that was just it. I frankly told him that I was not only a nervous man, but a miserably sick and frightened one to boot. He did not offer to prescribe for me, and after some moments of silence I judged that he considered our interview at an end. I arose to go, but on leaving the room fired a parting shot, which, to my surprise, proved a telling one.
"'Doctor,' said I, 'before you send the man to make repairs I would like you to hear the creaking of the stairs for yourself—just as a matter of curiosity. My wife and sister-in-law are going up to the old home in a few days. Suppose you come over and spend a night with me while they are away.'
"The doctor chuckled, 'You are a queer fellow, Mr. Ploat; a queer fellow, and no mistake. You say you are run down, played out, can't sleep. Take more exercise, sir; give up late suppers, drink less, stop smoking. A man leading the sedentary life you do should take more care of himself. I am older than you are, and a physician. My advice may be worth something. As to coming over and staying with you, I don't see that there is anything in that. It seems absurd, quite so; but nevertheless, I will humor you. Let me know when to come, but on no account say anything of this to my sister. My absence would greatly alarm her. I have not been out of this house after dark for over forty years!'
"With this strange assertion our conversation closed.
"The following Monday my wife and sister-in-law left for Salem, and Doctor Matthai promised to be with me on Wednesday night. When I found myself alone in the house I resolved to put into execution an idea which struck me with much force. I thought it very likely that I would find out whether the creaking of the stairs was of human or supernatural origin; and this I hoped would be made plain before the doctor came over. That the noise was due to natural causes, as he so adroitly suggested, I, in my heart of hearts, could not bring myself to believe. Poe is my favorite author, and he perhaps could have suggested a solution of the perplexities that beset me; but no inspiration came to me from the oft-read pages which I turned over and over in despair.
"My plan was a simple one, and it was odd that I had not thought of it before; but after all, it would have been impracticable as long as my wife and sister-in-law were in the house.
"On Tuesday night I sprinkled a thin layer of flour over each stair, from basement to attic. This was a task of an hour or so, but I felt that I did not labor in vain. Then I turned in and slept soundly until midnight, when I was awakened as usual by the creaking of the stairs. It is hardly necessary to say that I remained in bed, making no attempt whatever to investigate, but valiantly drew up the covers over my head, fully expecting every moment to feel the weight of a dreadful hand upon some portion of my body.
"In the morning, my bravery having returned, I found upon each stair the clear impression of a naked human foot! The footprints were very large, and were made in ascent. There was no trace of them beyond the third floor, for the flour on the stairway to the attic above had been partially brushed off as by a trailing garment. The attic was perfectly bare, affording no hiding-place for man or beast, as there were no closets, presses or means of concealment of any kind. My visitor may have gone out by way of the trap door in the loft which opened upon the roof, but it was securely bolted on the inside, and the bolts, which were caked with rust in their fastenings, had evidently not been pulled out for years. I made a thorough search of the attic, the loft, and the upper floors of the house, but failed utterly to discover any further trace of the prowler.
