‘Oh, sir, pray take the mistress and the children away from this place as soon as possible. It’s no robbers that go up and down these stairs of nights, sir. It’s something much worse than that.’
‘Dawson, if you begin to talk such folly to me, I’ll discharge you on the spot. I believe the whole lot of you have gone mad.’
‘But listen to my story, sir. I had gone to bed last night, as tired as possible, and thinking of nothing but getting a good long sleep. The first thing that roused me was some one trying the handle of my door. I lay and listened to it for some time before I was fully awake, and then I thought maybe you wanted something out of my room, and was trying not to wake me; so I got out of bed and opened the door. But there was nobody there, though I fancied I heard some one breathing hard a few yards off from me. Well, I thought to myself, sir, this is all nonsense; so I came back to bed again, and lay down. But I couldn’t sleep; for directly the door was closed, I heard the footsteps again, creep, creeping along the passage and the wall, as though some one was crouching and feeling his way as he went. Then the handle of the door began to creak and turn again—I saw it turn, sir, with my own eyes, backwards and forwards, a dozen times in the moonlight; and then I heard a heavier step come stumbling downstairs, and there seemed to be a kind of scuffle. I couldn’t stand it no longer, so I opened the door again; and then, as I’m a living Christian, sir, I heard a woman’s voice say ‘Father!’ with a kind of sob, and as the sound was uttered there came a report from the first landing, and the sound of a fall, and a deep groan in the passage below. And it seemed to go right through me, and curdle my blood, and I fell all of a heap where you found me. And it’s nothing natural, sir, you may take my word for it; and harm will come of your stopping in this house.’
So saying, poor Dawson, who seemed in real earnest, fell back on his pillow with a heavy sigh.
‘Dawson,’ I said, critically, ‘what did you eat for supper last night?’
‘You’re never going to put down what I’ve told you, sir, to supper. I took nothing but a little cold meat, upon my word. And I was as sensible, till that shot knocked me over, as you are this moment.’
‘Do you mean to tell me that you seriously believe the report of a firearm could have reached your ears without one having been discharged?’
‘But didn’t you say you heard it yourself, sir?’
This knocked me over, and I did not know what to answer him. In the attempt to allay what I considered his unreasonable fear, I had forgotten my own experience in the matter. And I knew that I had heard, or imagined I heard, a shot fired, and it would be very difficult for any one to persuade me I was mistaken. Still, though I held no belief in supernatural agencies, I was an earnest student of the philosophical and metaphysical school of Germany, and acquainted with all the revealed wonders of magnetism and animal electricity. It was impossible to say whether some such effect as I have described might not have been produced upon my brain by the reflection of the fear or fancy on that of my servant; and that as he had imagined the concussion of firearms, so I might have instantaneously received the impression of his mind. It was a nice question for argument, and not one to be thought over at that moment. All my present business lay in the effort to disabuse Dawson’s mind of the reality of the shock it had received.
‘I said I fancied I heard something like the report of a firearm; but as none had been fired, of course I must have been mistaken. Come, Dawson, I must go back, or Mrs Delamere will wonder what has become of me. I conclude you are not such a coward as to be afraid to be left by yourself?’