A second male guest now arrived, and the assembled household waited in breathless interest to see how the ghosts would affect him. Nothing whatever was told to him, and he was lodged in a bedroom immediately underneath the noisy one.
The next morning, after all had passed a disturbed night, it was found that some of the noises had proceeded from the new guest. He had carried some of his blankets out into the garden and had slept there. He remained on, but refused to sleep in the house, and a tent was rigged up for him outside. He stated that the disturbances were too much for his nerves, though he had no idea what they were. His behavior, on the first night, in retiring to the garden, was meant as a strong protest against such treatment of a tired guest. His temper had got the upper hand of him, after fruitless efforts to sleep, and, finally, he had tramped downstairs with an armful of blankets, anticipating many apologies next morning from host and hostess, and a peaceful night to follow.
The following day a new maid arrived. She slept in the old part of the house, and shortly afterwards asked my sister if the house was haunted, as she had been kept awake by "heavy people running past her door with naked feet."
By this time it was only the influence of the staid old servants which prevented the younger ones from taking flight. My sister and her husband were not alarmed, they were profoundly interested.
The summer passed on, and there were days and weeks when nothing was heard, then quite suddenly the disturbances would begin again. As the noises sounded so very human it was extremely difficult to believe that they really did not proceed from incarnate beings, and my sister told me that time after time, as she listened, she would say to herself, "Now, beyond a shadow of doubt there are men in that room." She would creep upstairs, listen for some time with her hand on the door-knob—then suddenly throw it open—to find nothing. She never wearied of trying to surprise those invisible men.
At times when her husband was away from home, she would spend the entire night in an obstinate attempt to solve the mystery. When she had no guests, and the servants were asleep in their new wing, she would awake to the noise. Taking her candle she would mount on bare, silent feet to the floor above, and listen at the door, often for half an hour at a time. She had no fear, but intense curiosity. It was easy to trace what was going on in the room. Men were packing, moving heavy boxes, throwing down heavy articles, walking about the floor with ponderous tread. First they would be at one end of the room, then move on to the other. Sometimes they approached so near the door behind which she stood, that she expected to see it open, and to be confronted by several burly ruffians. She would rush suddenly in, candle in hand, only to be received in sudden, utter silence. Not even the scurry of a scared mouse. After half an hour of patient waiting within the room, she would leave it, close the door, and sit down on the staircase. In a few moments the disturbance was again in full swing.
Were I writing an account of these hauntings for the Psychical Society I should go into the most minute details; suffice it here to say, that during all this time every sort of investigation had been carried out by practical men and women, who had personally heard the disturbances, and who were keenly interested in the phenomena.
Rats were, of course, the first natural suggestion, but no one put forth this theory after having once, with their own ears, heard the disturbances. No one could advance any rational conclusion. The whole affair was baffling in the extreme.
It would have been simple enough to leave the place and forfeit the rent, but my sister and her husband loved the sport and the beauty of the surroundings, and were determined to remain, unless anything worse developed. No one ever saw anything unpleasant, or even suggestive of the supernatural, and the whole household had become more or less indifferent to the noises. They brought no harm to anybody, and might be safely ignored.
Mrs. Stewart had four Pomeranian dogs which did not produce a calming effect upon their human companions. They were constantly seeing things, bristling and showing every sign of terror. Into the noisy room they refused to go, and they objected to being left a moment alone. They slept in my sister's bedroom.