Ghostly Phenomena

by Elliott O'Donnell

(7) The incident of the shifting of the furniture.

(8) The screams as of a human being under torture.

Since after every precaution had been taken to guard against the possibility of trickery, the disturbances still continued, and were heard collectively, there can be little doubt they were superphysical. Such being the case, I am inclined to attribute them to the presence of an Elemental, though to what kind of Elemental it is impossible for me to say with any certainty, as the history of the Parsonage is unknown to me. Since, however, the disturbances do not seem to have been the precursors of any misfortune to the Stewarts, I can safely conclude that the Elemental was not a Clanogrian. It was, in all probability, either a Vice Elemental attracted thither by the past committal of some crime, or by the vicious thoughts of some former occupant, or a Vagrarian drawn to the spot by its seclusiveness or by some relic of prehistoric times. I think the latter is the most probable, for the grotesque nature of the sounds are quite in accordance with the appearance and behaviour of the generality of Vagrarians, who usually manifest their resentment of human trespassers, on what they presume to be their special preserves, by creating all manner of alarming disturbances.

Shortly before commencing this book, hearing rumours that a certain house in the neighbourhood of the Crystal Palace was haunted, I obtained permission from the owner to sleep there, the only condition being that I should on no account give any clue as to the real identity of the place, which he was most anxious to let; and it is a fact, however incredible it may seem to sceptics, that nothing more effectually prevents a house letting than the reputation that it is haunted!

The house in question, though furnished, had been standing empty for some long time, and when I entered it alone one evening about nine o'clock, I was at once impressed with the musty atmosphere. My first act, therefore, was to open the windows on the top landing. The house consisted of three storeys and a basement, twelve bed and four reception rooms, with the usual kitchen offices. I had had no definite information as to the nature of the hauntings, so that I came to the house with a perfectly unbiassed mind, and under conditions that excluded any possibility of suggestion. I admit that, when the front door closed behind me, and I found myself in a silent, empty hall, in which the shadows of evening were fast beginning to assemble, my heart beat a little faster than usual. Confronting me was a staircase leading to all the grim possibilities of the upper landings, whilst a little on one side of it was a dark, narrow passage, from which a flight of unprepossessing stone steps led into the abyssmal depths of the basement.

After a few minutes' hesitation, glad even to hear my own footsteps, I moved across the hall, and after examining the rooms on the ground floor, ascended to those above.

All the blinds in the house being down, each room with its ponderous old-fashioned furniture presented a particularly funereal aspect, to which a startling effect was given by a few patches of brilliant moonlight, that, falling on the polished surfaces of the wardrobes, converted them into mirrors, wherein I saw the reflections of what apparently had no material counterparts. Here and there, too, in some remote angle, I saw a white and glistening something, that for a moment chilled my blood, until a closer inspection proved it to be a mere illumination on the wall or on some naturally bright object.

I have generally been able to detect, both in Silence and in Shadows, an indefinable Something that is—to me, at any rate—an almost sure indication of the near proximity of the Superphysical; and the moment I crossed the threshold of this house, I felt this indefinable Something all round me in a degree that was most marked.

The hush, indeed, which was forced and unnatural, had grown with each step I took, until now, as I involuntarily paused to listen, the pulsation of my own heart was like the rapid beating on a drum, whilst I instinctively felt that numerous other beings were holding in their breath simultaneously with mine. The shadows, too, were far from normal shadows, for as I glanced behind me, and saw them waving to and fro on the walls and floor, I was not only struck with the fact that several of them resembled nothing near at hand, nothing that could in any way be explained by the furniture, but that, wherever I went, the same few shadows glided surreptitiously behind me.

As I was about to enter one of the top attics, there was a thud, and something flew past me. I switched on my flashlight. It was a black cat—a poor stray creature with gaunt sides and unkempt coat—a great deal more frightened than I.