按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
was originally house…breaking； in the pursuit of which art he had
had his right ear chopped off one night； as he was burglariously
getting in at a window； by a brave and lovely servant…maid （whom the
aquiline…nosed woman； though not at all answering the description；
always mysteriously implied to be herself）。 After several years；
this brave and lovely servant…maid was married to the landlord of a
country Inn； which landlord had this remarkable characteristic； that
he always wore a silk nightcap； and never would on any consideration
take it off。 At last； one night； when he was fast asleep； the brave
and lovely woman lifted up his silk nightcap on the right side； and
found that he had no ear there； upon which she sagaciously perceived
that he was the clipped housebreaker； who had married her with the
intention of putting her to death。 She immediately heated the poker
and terminated his career； for which she was taken to King George
upon his throne； and received the compliments of royalty on her
great discretion and valour。 This same narrator； who had a Ghoulish
pleasure； I have long been persuaded； in terrifying me to the utmost
confines of my reason； had another authentic anecdote within her own
experience； founded； I now believe； upon Raymond and Agnes； or the
Bleeding Nun。 She said it happened to her brother…in…law； who was
immensely rich；which my father was not； and immensely tall；which
my father was not。 It was always a point with this Ghoul to present
my clearest relations and friends to my youthful mind under
circumstances of disparaging contrast。 The brother…in…law was
riding once through a forest on a magnificent horse （we had no
magnificent horse at our house）； attended by a favourite and
valuable Newfoundland dog （we had no dog）； when he found himself
benighted； and came to an Inn。 A dark woman opened the door； and he
asked her if he could have a bed there。 She answered yes； and put
his horse in the stable； and took him into a room where there were
two dark men。 While he was at supper； a parrot in the room began to
talk； saying； 〃Blood； blood！ Wipe up the blood！〃 Upon which one of
the dark men wrung the parrot's neck； and said he was fond of
roasted parrots； and he meant to have this one for breakfast in the
morning。 After eating and drinking heartily； the immensely rich；
tall brother…in…law went up to bed； but he was rather vexed； because
they had shut his dog in the stable； saying that they never allowed
dogs in the house。 He sat very quiet for more than an hour；
thinking and thinking； when； just as his candle was burning out； he
heard a scratch at the door。 He opened the door； and there was the
Newfoundland dog！ The dog came softly in； smelt about him； went
straight to some straw in the corner which the dark men had said
covered apples； tore the straw away； and disclosed two sheets
steeped in blood。 Just at that moment the candle went out； and the
brother…in…law； looking through a chink in the door； saw the two
dark men stealing up…stairs； one armed with a dagger that long
（about five feet）； the other carrying a chopper； a sack； and a
spade。 Having no remembrance of the close of this adventure； I
suppose my faculties to have been always so frozen with terror at
this stage of it； that the power of listening stagnated within me
for some quarter of an hour。
These barbarous stories carried me； sitting there on the Holly…Tree
hearth； to the Roadside Inn； renowned in my time in a sixpenny book
with a folding plate； representing in a central compartment of oval
form the portrait of Jonathan Bradford； and in four corner
compartments four incidents of the tragedy with which the name is
associated；coloured with a hand at once so free and economical；
that the bloom of Jonathan's complexion passed without any pause
into the breeches of the ostler； and； smearing itself off into the
next division； became rum in a bottle。 Then I remembered how the
landlord was found at the murdered traveller's bedside； with his own
knife at his feet； and blood upon his hand； how he was hanged for
the murder； notwithstanding his protestation that he had indeed come
there to kill the traveller for his saddle…bags； but had been
stricken motionless on finding him already slain； and how the
ostler； years afterwards； owned the deed。 By this time I had made
myself quite uncomfortable。 I stirred the fire； and stood with my
back to it as long as I could bear the heat； looking up at the
darkness beyond the screen； and at the wormy curtains creeping in
and creeping out； like the worms in the ballad of Alonzo the Brave
and the Fair Imogene。
There was an Inn in the cathedral town where I went to school； which
had pleasanter recollections about it than any of these。 I took it
next。 It was the Inn where friends used to put up； and where we
used to go to see parents； and to have salmon and fowls； and be
tipped。 It had an ecclesiastical sign；the Mitre；and a bar that
seemed to be the next best thing to a bishopric； it was so snug。 I
loved the landlord's youngest daughter to distraction；but let that
pass。 It was in this Inn that I was cried over by my rosy little
sister； because I had acquired a black eye in a fight。 And though
she had been； that Holly…Tree night； for many a long year where all
tears are dried； the Mitre softened me yet。
〃To be continued to…morrow；〃 said I； when I took my candle to go to
bed。 But my bed took it upon itself to continue the train of
thought that night。 It carried me away； like the enchanted carpet；
to a distant place （though still in England）； and there； alighting
from a stage…coach at another Inn in the snow； as I had actually
done some years before； I repeated in my sleep a curious experience
I had really had there。 More than a year before I made the journey
in the course of which I put up at that Inn； I had lost a very near
and dear friend by death。 Every night since； at home or away from
home； I had dreamed of that friend； sometimes as still living；
sometimes as returning from the world of shadows to comfort me；
always as being beautiful； placid； and happy； never in association
with any approach to fear or distress。 It was at a lonely Inn in a
wide moorland place； that I halted to pass the night。 When I had
looked from my bedroom window over the waste of snow on which the
moon was shining； I sat down by my fire to write a letter。 I had
always； until that hour； kept it within my own breast that I dreamed
every night of the dear lost one。 But in the letter that I wrote I
recorded the circumstance； and added that I felt much interested in
proving whether the subject of my dream would still be faithful to
me； travel…tired； and in that remote place。 No。 I lost the beloved
figure of my vision in parting with the secret。 My sleep has never
looked upon it since； in sixteen years； but once。 I was in Italy；
and awoke （or seemed to awake）； the well…remembered voice distinctly
in my ears； conversing with it。 I entreated it； as it rose above my
bed and soared up to the vaulted roof of the old room； to answer me
a question I had asked touching the Future Life。 My hands were
still outstretched towards it as it vanished； when I heard a bell
ringing by the garden wall； and a voice in the deep stillness of the
night calling on all good Christians to pray for the souls of the
dead； it being All Souls' Eve。
To return to the Holly…Tree。 When I awoke next day； it was freezing
hard； and the lowering sky threatened more snow。 My breakfast
cleared away； I drew my chair into its former place； and； with the
fire getting so much the better of the landscape that I sat in
twilight； resumed my Inn remembrances。
That was a good Inn down in Wiltshire where I put up once； in the
days of the hard Wiltshire ale； and before all beer was bitterness。
It was on the skirts of Salisbury Plain； and the midnight wind that
rattled my lattice window came moaning at me from Stonehenge。 There
was a hanger…on at that establishment （a supernaturally preserved
Druid I believe him to have been； and to be still）； with long white
hair； and a flinty blue eye always looking afar off； who claimed to
have been a shepherd； and who seemed to be ever watching for the
reappearance； on the verge of the horizon； of some ghostly flock of
sheep that had been mutton for many ages。 He was a man with a weird
belief in him that no one could count the stones of Stonehenge
twice； and make the same number of them； likewise； that any one who
counted them three times nine times； and then stood in the centre
and said； 〃I dare！〃 would behold a tremendous apparition； and be
stricken dead。 He pretended to have seen a bustard （I suspect him
to have been familiar with the dodo）； in manner following： He was
out upon the plain at the close of a late autumn day； when he dimly
discerned； going on before him at a curious fitfully bounding pace；
what he at firs