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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Red Room
+
+Author: H. G. Wells
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2007 [EBook #23218]
+Last Updated: September 17, 2016
+
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE RED ROOM
+
+By H. G. Wells
+
+
+
+
+“I can assure you,” said I, “that it will take a very tangible ghost to
+frighten me.” And I stood up before the fire with my glass in my hand.
+
+“It is your own choosing,” said the man with the withered arm, and glanced
+at me askance.
+
+“Eight-and-twenty years,” said I, “I have lived, and never a ghost have I
+seen as yet.”
+
+The old woman sat staring hard into the fire, her pale eyes wide open.
+“Ay,” she broke in; “and eight-and-twenty years you have lived and never
+seen the likes of this house, I reckon. There’s a many things to see, when
+one’s still but eight-and-twenty.” She swayed her head slowly from side to
+side. “A many things to see and sorrow for.”
+
+I half suspected the old people were trying to enhance the spiritual
+terrors of their house by their droning insistence. I put down my empty
+glass on the table and looked about the room, and caught a glimpse of
+myself, abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness, in the
+queer old mirror at the end of the room. “Well,” I said, “if I see
+anything to-night, I shall be so much the wiser. For I come to the
+business with an open mind.”
+
+“It’s your own choosing,” said the man with the withered arm once more.
+
+I heard the faint sound of a stick and a shambling step on the flags in
+the passage outside. The door creaked on its hinges as a second old man
+entered, more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than the first. He
+supported himself by the help of a crutch, his eyes were covered by
+a shade, and his lower lip, half averted, hung pale and pink from his
+decaying yellow teeth. He made straight for an armchair on the opposite
+side of the table, sat down clumsily, and began to cough. The man with
+the withered hand gave the newcomer a short glance of positive dislike;
+the old woman took no notice of his arrival, but remained with her eyes
+fixed steadily on the fire.
+
+“I said--it’s your own choosing,” said the man with the withered hand,
+when the coughing had ceased for a while.
+
+“It’s my own choosing,” I answered.
+
+The man with the shade became aware of my presence for the first time,
+and threw his head back for a moment, and sidewise, to see me. I caught
+a momentary glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed. Then he
+began to cough and splutter again.
+
+“Why don’t you drink?” said the man with the withered arm, pushing the
+beer toward him. The man with the shade poured out a glassful with a
+shaking hand, that splashed half as much again on the deal table. A
+monstrous shadow of him crouched upon the wall, and mocked his action
+as he poured and drank. I must confess I had scarcely expected these
+grotesque custodians. There is, to my mind, something inhuman in
+senility, something crouching and atavistic; the human qualities seem
+to drop from old people insensibly day by day. The three of them made me
+feel uncomfortable with their gaunt silences, their bent carriage,
+their evident unfriendliness to me and to one another. And that night,
+perhaps, I was in the mood for uncomfortable impressions. I resolved to
+get away from their vague fore-shadowings of the evil things upstairs.
+
+“If,” said I, “you will show me to this haunted room of yours, I will
+make myself comfortable there.”
+
+The old man with the cough jerked his head back so suddenly that it
+startled me, and shot another glance of his red eyes at me from out of
+the darkness under the shade, but no one answered me. I waited a minute,
+glancing from one to the other. The old woman stared like a dead body,
+glaring into the fire with lack-lustre eyes.
+
+“If,” I said, a little louder, “if you will show me to this haunted room
+of yours, I will relieve you from the task of entertaining me.”
+
+“There’s a candle on the slab outside the door,” said the man with the
+withered hand, looking at my feet as he addressed me. “But if you go to
+the Red Room to-night--”
+
+“This night of all nights!” said the old woman, softly.
+
+“--You go alone.”
+
+“Very well,” I answered, shortly, “and which way do I go?”
+
+“You go along the passage for a bit,” said he, nodding his head on his
+shoulder at the door, “until you come to a spiral staircase; and on the
+second landing is a door covered with green baize. Go through that, and
+down the long corridor to the end, and the Red Room is on your left up
+the steps.”
+
+“Have I got that right?” I said, and repeated his directions.
+
+He corrected me in one particular.
+
+“And you are really going?” said the man with the shade, looking at me
+again for the third time with that queer, unnatural tilting of the face.
+
+“This night of all nights!” whispered the old woman.
+
+“It is what I came for,” I said, and moved toward the door. As I did so,
+the old man with the shade rose and staggered round the table, so as to
+be closer to the others and to the fire. At the door I turned and
+looked at them, and saw they were all close together, dark against the
+firelight, staring at me over their shoulders, with an intent expression
+on their ancient faces.
+
+“Good-night,” I said, setting the door open. “It’s your own choosing,”
+ said the man with the withered arm.
+
+I left the door wide open until the candle was well alight, and then I
+shut them in, and walked down the chilly, echoing passage.
+
+I must confess that the oddness of these three old pensioners in
+whose charge her ladyship had left the castle, and the deep-toned,
+old-fashioned furniture of the housekeeper’s room, in which they
+foregathered, had affected me curiously in spite of my effort to keep
+myself at a matter-of-fact phase. They seemed to belong to another age,
+an older age, an age when things spiritual were indeed to be feared,
+when common sense was uncommon, an age when omens and witches were
+credible, and ghosts beyond denying. Their very existence, thought I, is
+spectral; the cut of their clothing, fashions born in dead brains; the
+ornaments and conveniences in the room about them even are ghostly--the
+thoughts of vanished men, which still haunt rather than participate in
+the world of to-day. And the passage I was in, long and shadowy, with
+a film of moisture glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold as a
+thing that is dead and rigid. But with an effort I sent such thoughts
+to the right-about. The long, drafty subterranean passage was chilly and
+dusty, and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The
+echoes rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping
+up after me, and another fled before me into the darkness overhead. I
+came to the wide landing and stopped there for a moment listening to a
+rustling that I fancied I heard creeping behind me, and then, satisfied
+of the absolute silence, pushed open the unwilling baize-covered door
+and stood in the silent corridor.
+
+The effect was scarcely what I expected, for the moonlight, coming in by
+the great window on the grand staircase, picked out everything in vivid
+black shadow or reticulated silvery illumination. Everything seemed in
+its proper position; the house might have been deserted on the yesterday
+instead of twelve months ago. There were candles in the sockets of
+the sconces, and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the
+polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in my
+candlelight. A waiting stillness was over everything. I was about to
+advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group stood upon the landing
+hidden from me by a corner of the wall; but its shadow fell with
+marvelous distinctness upon the white paneling, and gave me the
+impression of some one crouching to waylay me. The thing jumped upon
+my attention suddenly. I stood rigid for half a moment, perhaps. Then,
+with my hand in the pocket that held the revolver, I advanced, only
+to discover a Ganymede and Eagle, glistening in the moonlight. That
+incident for a time restored my nerve, and a dim porcelain Chinaman on a
+buhl table, whose head rocked as I passed, scarcely startled me.
+
+The door of the Red Room and the steps up to it were in a shadowy
+corner. I moved my candle from side to side in order to see clearly the
+nature of the recess in which I stood, before opening the door. Here it
+was, thought I, that my predecessor was found, and the memory of
+that story gave me a sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over my
+shoulder at the black Ganymede in the moonlight, and opened the door
+of the Red Room rather hastily, with my face half turned to the pallid
+silence of the corridor.
+
+I entered, closed the door behind me at once, turned the key I found
+in the lock within, and stood with the candle held aloft surveying the
+scene of my vigil, the great Red Room of Lorraine Castle, in which the
+young Duke had died; or rather in which he had begun his dying, for
+he had opened the door and fallen headlong down the steps I had just
+ascended. That had been the end of his vigil, of his gallant attempt to
+conquer the ghostly tradition of the place, and never, I thought, had
+apoplexy better served the ends of superstition. There were other
+and older stories that clung to the room, back to the half-incredible
+beginning of it all, the tale of a timid wife and the tragic end that
+came to her husband’s jest of frightening her. And looking round that
+huge shadowy room with its black window bays, its recesses and alcoves,
+its dusty brown-red hangings and dark gigantic furniture, one could
+well understand the legends that had sprouted in its black corners, its
+germinating darknesses. My candle was a little tongue of light in the
+vastness of the chamber; its rays failed to pierce to the opposite
+end of the room, and left an ocean of dull red mystery and suggestion,
+sentinel shadows and watching darknesses beyond its island of light. And
+the stillness of desolation brooded over it all.
+
+I must confess some impalpable quality of that ancient room disturbed
+me. I tried to fight the feeling down. I resolved to make a systematic
+examination of the place, and so, by leaving nothing to the imagination,
+dispel the fanciful suggestions of the obscurity before they obtained
+a hold upon me. After satisfying myself of the fastening of the door, I
+began to walk round the room, peering round each article of furniture,
+tucking up the valances of the bed and opening its curtains wide. In
+one place there was a distinct echo to my footsteps, the noises I made
+seemed so little that they enhanced rather than broke the silence of the
+place. I pulled up the blinds and examined the fastenings of the several
+windows. Attracted by the fall of a particle of dust, I leaned forward
+and looked up the blackness of the wide chimney. Then, trying to
+preserve my scientific attitude of mind, I walked round and began
+tapping the oak paneling for any secret opening, but I desisted before
+reaching the alcove. I saw my face in a mirror--white.
+
+There were two big mirrors in the room, each with a pair of sconces
+bearing candles, and on the mantelshelf, too, were candles in china
+candle-sticks. All these I lit one after the other. The fire was
+laid--an unexpected consideration from the old housekeeper--and I lit
+it, to keep down any disposition to shiver, and when it was burning
+well I stood round with my back to it and regarded the room again. I
+had pulled up a chintz-covered armchair and a table to form a kind of
+barricade before me. On this lay my revolver, ready to hand. My precise
+examination had done me a little good, but I still found the remoter
+darkness of the place and its perfect stillness too stimulating for the
+imagination. The echoing of the stir and crackling of the fire was no
+sort of comfort to me. The shadow in the alcove at the end of the
+room began to display that undefinable quality of a presence, that odd
+suggestion of a lurking living thing that comes so easily in silence
+and solitude. And to reassure myself, I walked with a candle into it
+and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible there. I stood that
+candle upon the floor of the alcove and left it in that position.
+
+By this time I was in a state of considerable nervous tension, although
+to my reason there was no adequate cause for my condition. My mind,
+however, was perfectly clear. I postulated quite unreservedly that
+nothing supernatural could happen, and to pass the time I began
+stringing some rhymes together, Ingoldsby fashion, concerning the
+original legend of the place. A few I spoke aloud, but the echoes were
+not pleasant. For the same reason I also abandoned, after a time, a
+conversation with myself upon the impossibility of ghosts and haunting.
+My mind reverted to the three old and distorted people downstairs, and I
+tried to keep it upon that topic.
+
+The sombre reds and grays of the room troubled me; even with its seven
+candles the place was merely dim. The light in the alcove flaring in
+a draft, and the fire flickering, kept the shadows and penumbra
+perpetually shifting and stirring in a noiseless flighty dance. Casting
+about for a remedy, I recalled the wax candles I had seen in the
+corridor, and, with a slight effort, carrying a candle and leaving the
+door open, I walked out into the moonlight, and presently returned with
+as many as ten. These I put in the various knick-knacks of china with
+which the room was sparsely adorned, and lit and placed them where
+the shadows had lain deepest, some on the floor, some in the window
+recesses, arranging and rearranging them until at last my seventeen
+candles were so placed that not an inch of the room but had the direct
+light of at least one of them. It occurred to me that when the ghost
+came I could warn him not to trip over them. The room was now quite
+brightly illuminated. There was something very cheering and reassuring
+in these little silent streaming flames, and to notice their steady
+diminution of length offered me an occupation and gave me a reassuring
+sense of the passage of time.
+
+Even with that, however, the brooding expectation of the vigil weighed
+heavily enough upon me. I stood watching the minute hand of my watch
+creep towards midnight.
+
+Then something happened in the alcove. I did not see the candle go out,
+I simply turned and saw that the darkness was there, as one might start
+and see the unexpected presence of a stranger. The black shadow had
+sprung back to its place. “By Jove,” said I aloud, recovering from my
+surprise, “that draft’s a strong one;” and taking the matchbox from the
+table, I walked across the room in a leisurely manner to relight the
+corner again. My first match would not strike, and as I succeeded with
+the second, something seemed to blink on the wall before me. I turned my
+head involuntarily and saw that the two candles on the little table by
+the fireplace were extinguished. I rose at once to my feet.
+
+“Odd,” I said. “Did I do that myself in a flash of absent-mindedness?”
+
+I walked back, relit one, and as I did so I saw the candle in the
+right sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right out, and almost
+immediately its companion followed it. The flames vanished as if the
+wick had been suddenly nipped between a finger and thumb, leaving the
+wick neither glowing nor smoking, but black. While I stood gaping the
+candle at the foot of the bed went out, and the shadows seemed to take
+another step toward me.
+
+“This won’t do!” said I, and first one and then another candle on the
+mantelshelf followed.
+
+“What’s up?” I cried, with a queer high note getting into my voice
+somehow. At that the candle on the corner of the wardrobe went out, and
+the one I had relit in the alcove followed.
+
+“Steady on!” I said, “those candles are wanted,” speaking with a
+half-hysterical facetiousness, and scratching away at a match the
+while, “for the mantel candlesticks.” My hands trembled so much that
+twice I missed the rough paper of the matchbox. As the mantel emerged
+from darkness again, two candles in the remoter end of the room were
+eclipsed. But with the same match I also relit the larger mirror
+candles, and those on the floor near the doorway, so that for the moment
+I seemed to gain on the extinctions. But then in a noiseless volley
+there vanished four lights at once in different corners of the room, and
+I struck another match in quivering haste, and stood hesitating whither
+to take it.
+
+As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed to sweep out the two
+candles on the table. With a cry of terror I dashed at the alcove, then
+into the corner and then into the window, relighting three as two more
+vanished by the fireplace, and then, perceiving a better way, I dropped
+matches on the iron-bound deedbox in the corner, and caught up the
+bedroom candlestick. With this I avoided the delay of striking matches,
+but for all that the steady process of extinction went on, and the
+shadows I feared and fought against returned, and crept in upon me,
+first a step gained on this side of me, then on that. I was now almost
+frantic with the horror of the coming darkness, and my self-possession
+deserted me. I leaped panting from candle to candle in a vain struggle
+against that remorseless advance.
+
+I bruised myself in the thigh against the table, I sent a chair
+headlong, I stumbled and fell and whisked the cloth from the table in
+my fall. My candle rolled away from me and I snatched another as I rose.
+Abruptly this was blown out as I swung it off the table by the wind of
+my sudden movement, and immediately the two remaining candles followed.
+But there was light still in the room, a red light, that streamed across
+the ceiling and staved off the shadows from me. The fire! Of course I
+could still thrust my candle between the bars and relight it.
+
+I turned to where the flames were still dancing between the glowing
+coals and splashing red reflections upon the furniture; made two steps
+toward the grate, and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished,
+the glow vanished, the reflections rushed together and disappeared, and
+as I thrust the candle between the bars darkness closed upon me like the
+shutting of an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace, sealed my
+vision, and crushed the last vestiges of self-possession from my brain.
+And it was not only palpable darkness, but intolerable terror. The
+candle fell from my hands. I flung out my arms in a vain effort to
+thrust that ponderous blackness away from me, and lifting up my voice,
+screamed with all my might, once, twice, thrice. Then I think I must
+have staggered to my feet. I know I thought suddenly of the moonlit
+corridor, and with my head bowed and my arms over my face, made a
+stumbling run for the door.
+
+But I had forgotten the exact position of the door, and I struck myself
+heavily against the corner of the bed. I staggered back, turned, and was
+either struck or struck myself against some other bulky furnishing. I
+have a vague memory of battering myself thus to and fro in the darkness,
+of a heavy blow at last upon my forehead, of a horrible sensation
+of falling that lasted an age, of my last frantic effort to keep my
+footing, and then I remember no more.
+
+I opened my eyes in daylight. My head was roughly bandaged, and the man
+with the withered hand was watching my face. I looked about me trying
+to remember what had happened, and for a space I could not recollect.
+I rolled my eyes into the corner and saw the old woman, no longer
+abstracted, no longer terrible, pouring out some drops of medicine
+from a little blue phial into a glass. “Where am I?” I said. “I seem to
+remember you, and yet I can not remember who you are.”
+
+They told me then, and I heard of the haunted Red Room as one who hears
+a tale. “We found you at dawn,” said he, “and there was blood on your
+forehead and lips.”
+
+I wondered that I had ever disliked him. The three of them in the
+daylight seemed commonplace old folk enough. The man with the green
+shade had his head bent as one who sleeps.
+
+It was very slowly I recovered the memory of my experience. “You
+believe now,” said the old man with the withered hand, “that the room is
+haunted?” He spoke no longer as one who greets an intruder, but as one
+who condoles with a friend.
+
+“Yes,” said I, “the room is haunted.”
+
+“And you have seen it. And we who have been here all our lives have
+never set eyes upon it. Because we have never dared. Tell us, is it
+truly the old earl who--”
+
+“No,” said I, “it is not.”
+
+“I told you so,” said the old lady, with the glass in her hand. “It is
+his poor young countess who was frightened--”
+
+“It is not,” I said. “There is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of
+countess in that room; there is no ghost there at all, but worse, far
+worse, something impalpable--”
+
+“Well?” they said.
+
+“The worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal men,” said I; “and
+that is, in all its nakedness--‘Fear!’ Fear that will not have light
+nor sound, that will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and
+overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor, it fought against me in
+the room--”
+
+I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence. My hand went up to
+my bandages. “The candles went out one after another, and I fled--”
+
+Then the man with the shade lifted his face sideways to see me and
+spoke.
+
+“That is it,” said he. “I knew that was it. A Power of Darkness. To put
+such a curse upon a home! It lurks there always. You can feel it even
+in the daytime, even of a bright summer’s day, in the hangings, in the
+curtains, keeping behind you however you face about. In the dusk it
+creeps in the corridor and follows you, so that you dare not turn. It is
+even as you say. Fear itself is in that room. Black Fear.... And there
+it will be... so long as this house of sin endures.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED ROOM ***
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+ <head>
+ <title>
+ The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+ </title>
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+
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+ .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
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+ <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Red Room
+
+Author: H. G. Wells
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2007 [EBook #23218]
+Last Updated: September 17, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+ <div style="height: 8em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h1>
+ THE RED ROOM
+ </h1>
+ <h2>
+ By H. G. Wells<br /> <br />
+ </h2>
+
+
+
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can assure you,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that it will take a very tangible ghost to
+frighten me.&rdquo; And I stood up before the fire with my glass in my hand.
+</p>
+ <p>
+&ldquo;It is your own choosing,&rdquo; said the man with the withered arm, and glanced
+at me askance.
+</p>
+ <p>
+&ldquo;Eight-and-twenty years,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I have lived, and never a ghost have I
+seen as yet.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+The old woman sat staring hard into the fire, her pale eyes wide open.
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; she broke in; &ldquo;and eight-and-twenty years you have lived and never
+seen the likes of this house, I reckon. There&rsquo;s a many things to see, when
+one&rsquo;s still but eight-and-twenty.&rdquo; She swayed her head slowly from side to
+side. &ldquo;A many things to see and sorrow for.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+I half suspected the old people were trying to enhance the spiritual
+terrors of their house by their droning insistence. I put down my empty
+glass on the table and looked about the room, and caught a glimpse of
+myself, abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness, in the
+queer old mirror at the end of the room. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;if I see
+anything to-night, I shall be so much the wiser. For I come to the
+business with an open mind.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It&rsquo;s your own choosing,&rdquo; said the man with the withered arm once more.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I heard the faint sound of a stick and a shambling step on the flags in
+ the passage outside. The door creaked on its hinges as a second old man
+ entered, more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than the first. He
+ supported himself by the help of a crutch, his eyes were covered by a
+ shade, and his lower lip, half averted, hung pale and pink from his
+ decaying yellow teeth. He made straight for an armchair on the opposite
+ side of the table, sat down clumsily, and began to cough. The man with the
+ withered hand gave the newcomer a short glance of positive dislike; the
+ old woman took no notice of his arrival, but remained with her eyes fixed
+ steadily on the fire.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I said&mdash;it&rsquo;s your own choosing,&rdquo; said the man with the withered
+ hand, when the coughing had ceased for a while.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my own choosing,&rdquo; I answered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The man with the shade became aware of my presence for the first time, and
+ threw his head back for a moment, and sidewise, to see me. I caught a
+ momentary glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed. Then he
+ began to cough and splutter again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you drink?&rdquo; said the man with the withered arm, pushing the
+ beer toward him. The man with the shade poured out a glassful with a
+ shaking hand, that splashed half as much again on the deal table. A
+ monstrous shadow of him crouched upon the wall, and mocked his action as
+ he poured and drank. I must confess I had scarcely expected these
+ grotesque custodians. There is, to my mind, something inhuman in senility,
+ something crouching and atavistic; the human qualities seem to drop from
+ old people insensibly day by day. The three of them made me feel
+ uncomfortable with their gaunt silences, their bent carriage, their
+ evident unfriendliness to me and to one another. And that night, perhaps,
+ I was in the mood for uncomfortable impressions. I resolved to get away
+ from their vague fore-shadowings of the evil things upstairs.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;If,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;you will show me to this haunted room of yours, I will make
+ myself comfortable there.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The old man with the cough jerked his head back so suddenly that it
+ startled me, and shot another glance of his red eyes at me from out of the
+ darkness under the shade, but no one answered me. I waited a minute,
+ glancing from one to the other. The old woman stared like a dead body,
+ glaring into the fire with lack-lustre eyes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;If,&rdquo; I said, a little louder, &ldquo;if you will show me to this haunted room
+ of yours, I will relieve you from the task of entertaining me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a candle on the slab outside the door,&rdquo; said the man with the
+ withered hand, looking at my feet as he addressed me. &ldquo;But if you go to
+ the Red Room to-night&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;This night of all nights!&rdquo; said the old woman, softly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;&mdash;You go alone.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; I answered, shortly, &ldquo;and which way do I go?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;You go along the passage for a bit,&rdquo; said he, nodding his head on his
+ shoulder at the door, &ldquo;until you come to a spiral staircase; and on the
+ second landing is a door covered with green baize. Go through that, and
+ down the long corridor to the end, and the Red Room is on your left up the
+ steps.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Have I got that right?&rdquo; I said, and repeated his directions.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He corrected me in one particular.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;And you are really going?&rdquo; said the man with the shade, looking at me
+ again for the third time with that queer, unnatural tilting of the face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;This night of all nights!&rdquo; whispered the old woman.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It is what I came for,&rdquo; I said, and moved toward the door. As I did so,
+ the old man with the shade rose and staggered round the table, so as to be
+ closer to the others and to the fire. At the door I turned and looked at
+ them, and saw they were all close together, dark against the firelight,
+ staring at me over their shoulders, with an intent expression on their
+ ancient faces.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; I said, setting the door open. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s your own choosing,&rdquo;
+ said the man with the withered arm.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I left the door wide open until the candle was well alight, and then I
+ shut them in, and walked down the chilly, echoing passage.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I must confess that the oddness of these three old pensioners in whose
+ charge her ladyship had left the castle, and the deep-toned, old-fashioned
+ furniture of the housekeeper&rsquo;s room, in which they foregathered, had
+ affected me curiously in spite of my effort to keep myself at a
+ matter-of-fact phase. They seemed to belong to another age, an older age,
+ an age when things spiritual were indeed to be feared, when common sense
+ was uncommon, an age when omens and witches were credible, and ghosts
+ beyond denying. Their very existence, thought I, is spectral; the cut of
+ their clothing, fashions born in dead brains; the ornaments and
+ conveniences in the room about them even are ghostly&mdash;the thoughts of
+ vanished men, which still haunt rather than participate in the world of
+ to-day. And the passage I was in, long and shadowy, with a film of
+ moisture glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold as a thing that is
+ dead and rigid. But with an effort I sent such thoughts to the
+ right-about. The long, drafty subterranean passage was chilly and dusty,
+ and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The echoes
+ rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping up after
+ me, and another fled before me into the darkness overhead. I came to the
+ wide landing and stopped there for a moment listening to a rustling that I
+ fancied I heard creeping behind me, and then, satisfied of the absolute
+ silence, pushed open the unwilling baize-covered door and stood in the
+ silent corridor.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The effect was scarcely what I expected, for the moonlight, coming in by
+ the great window on the grand staircase, picked out everything in vivid
+ black shadow or reticulated silvery illumination. Everything seemed in its
+ proper position; the house might have been deserted on the yesterday
+ instead of twelve months ago. There were candles in the sockets of the
+ sconces, and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the
+ polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in my
+ candlelight. A waiting stillness was over everything. I was about to
+ advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group stood upon the landing
+ hidden from me by a corner of the wall; but its shadow fell with marvelous
+ distinctness upon the white paneling, and gave me the impression of some
+ one crouching to waylay me. The thing jumped upon my attention suddenly. I
+ stood rigid for half a moment, perhaps. Then, with my hand in the pocket
+ that held the revolver, I advanced, only to discover a Ganymede and Eagle,
+ glistening in the moonlight. That incident for a time restored my nerve,
+ and a dim porcelain Chinaman on a buhl table, whose head rocked as I
+ passed, scarcely startled me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The door of the Red Room and the steps up to it were in a shadowy corner.
+ I moved my candle from side to side in order to see clearly the nature of
+ the recess in which I stood, before opening the door. Here it was, thought
+ I, that my predecessor was found, and the memory of that story gave me a
+ sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over my shoulder at the black
+ Ganymede in the moonlight, and opened the door of the Red Room rather
+ hastily, with my face half turned to the pallid silence of the corridor.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I entered, closed the door behind me at once, turned the key I found in
+ the lock within, and stood with the candle held aloft surveying the scene
+ of my vigil, the great Red Room of Lorraine Castle, in which the young
+ Duke had died; or rather in which he had begun his dying, for he had
+ opened the door and fallen headlong down the steps I had just ascended.
+ That had been the end of his vigil, of his gallant attempt to conquer the
+ ghostly tradition of the place, and never, I thought, had apoplexy better
+ served the ends of superstition. There were other and older stories that
+ clung to the room, back to the half-incredible beginning of it all, the
+ tale of a timid wife and the tragic end that came to her husband&rsquo;s jest of
+ frightening her. And looking round that huge shadowy room with its black
+ window bays, its recesses and alcoves, its dusty brown-red hangings and
+ dark gigantic furniture, one could well understand the legends that had
+ sprouted in its black corners, its germinating darknesses. My candle was a
+ little tongue of light in the vastness of the chamber; its rays failed to
+ pierce to the opposite end of the room, and left an ocean of dull red
+ mystery and suggestion, sentinel shadows and watching darknesses beyond
+ its island of light. And the stillness of desolation brooded over it all.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I must confess some impalpable quality of that ancient room disturbed me.
+ I tried to fight the feeling down. I resolved to make a systematic
+ examination of the place, and so, by leaving nothing to the imagination,
+ dispel the fanciful suggestions of the obscurity before they obtained a
+ hold upon me. After satisfying myself of the fastening of the door, I
+ began to walk round the room, peering round each article of furniture,
+ tucking up the valances of the bed and opening its curtains wide. In one
+ place there was a distinct echo to my footsteps, the noises I made seemed
+ so little that they enhanced rather than broke the silence of the place. I
+ pulled up the blinds and examined the fastenings of the several windows.
+ Attracted by the fall of a particle of dust, I leaned forward and looked
+ up the blackness of the wide chimney. Then, trying to preserve my
+ scientific attitude of mind, I walked round and began tapping the oak
+ paneling for any secret opening, but I desisted before reaching the
+ alcove. I saw my face in a mirror&mdash;white.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There were two big mirrors in the room, each with a pair of sconces
+ bearing candles, and on the mantelshelf, too, were candles in china
+ candle-sticks. All these I lit one after the other. The fire was laid&mdash;an
+ unexpected consideration from the old housekeeper&mdash;and I lit it, to
+ keep down any disposition to shiver, and when it was burning well I stood
+ round with my back to it and regarded the room again. I had pulled up a
+ chintz-covered armchair and a table to form a kind of barricade before me.
+ On this lay my revolver, ready to hand. My precise examination had done me
+ a little good, but I still found the remoter darkness of the place and its
+ perfect stillness too stimulating for the imagination. The echoing of the
+ stir and crackling of the fire was no sort of comfort to me. The shadow
+ in the alcove at the end of the room began to display that undefinable
+ quality of a presence, that odd suggestion of a lurking living thing that
+ comes so easily in silence and solitude. And to reassure myself, I walked
+ with a candle into it and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible
+ there. I stood that candle upon the floor of the alcove and left it in
+ that position.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By this time I was in a state of considerable nervous tension, although to
+ my reason there was no adequate cause for my condition. My mind, however,
+ was perfectly clear. I postulated quite unreservedly that nothing
+ supernatural could happen, and to pass the time I began stringing some
+ rhymes together, Ingoldsby fashion, concerning the original legend of the
+ place. A few I spoke aloud, but the echoes were not pleasant* For the same
+ reason I also abandoned, after a time, a conversation with myself upon the
+ impossibility of ghosts and haunting. My mind reverted to the three old
+ and distorted people downstairs, and I tried to keep it upon that topic.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sombre reds and grays of the room troubled me; even with its seven
+ candles the place was merely dim. The light in the alcove flaring in a
+ draft, and the fire flickering, kept the shadows and penumbra perpetually
+ shifting and stirring in a noiseless flighty dance. Casting about for a
+ remedy, I recalled the wax candles I had seen in the corridor, and, with a
+ slight effort, carrying a candle and leaving the door open, I walked out
+ into the moonlight, and presently returned with as many as ten. These I
+ put in the various knick-knacks of china with which the room was sparsely
+ adorned, and lit and placed them where the shadows had lain deepest, some
+ on the floor, some in the window recesses, arranging and rearranging them
+ until at last my seventeen candles were so placed that not an inch of the
+ room but had the direct light of at least one of them. It occurred to me
+ that when the ghost came I could warn him not to trip over them. The room
+ was now quite brightly illuminated. There was something very cheering and
+ reassuring in these little silent streaming flames, and to notice their
+ steady diminution of length offered me an occupation and gave me a
+ reassuring sense of the passage of time.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Even with that, however, the brooding expectation of the vigil weighed
+ heavily enough upon me. I stood watching the minute hand of my watch creep
+ towards midnight.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then something happened in the alcove. I did not see the candle go out, I
+ simply turned and saw that the darkness was there, as one might start and
+ see the unexpected presence of a stranger. The black shadow had sprung
+ back to its place. &ldquo;By Jove,&rdquo; said I aloud, recovering from my surprise,
+ &ldquo;that draft&rsquo;s a strong one;&rdquo; and taking the matchbox from the table, I
+ walked across the room in a leisurely manner to relight the corner again.
+ My first match would not strike, and as I succeeded with the second,
+ something seemed to blink on the wall before me. I turned my head
+ involuntarily and saw that the two candles on the little table by the
+ fireplace were extinguished. I rose at once to my feet.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Odd,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Did I do that myself in a flash of absent-mindedness?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I walked back, relit one, and as I did so I saw the candle in the right
+ sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right out, and almost immediately
+ its companion followed it. The flames vanished as if the wick had been
+ suddenly nipped between a finger and thumb, leaving the wick neither
+ glowing nor smoking, but black. While I stood gaping the candle at the
+ foot of the bed went out, and the shadows seemed to take another step
+ toward me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;This won&rsquo;t do!&rdquo; said I, and first one and then another candle on the
+ mantelshelf followed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;What&rsquo;s up?&rdquo; I cried, with a queer high note getting into my voice
+ somehow. At that the candle on the corner of the wardrobe went out, and
+ the one I had relit in the alcove followed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Steady on!&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;those candles are wanted,&rdquo; speaking with a
+ half-hysterical facetiousness, and scratching away at a match the while,
+ &ldquo;for the mantel candlesticks.&rdquo; My hands trembled so much that twice I
+ missed the rough paper of the matchbox. As the mantel emerged from
+ darkness again, two candles in the remoter end of the room were eclipsed.
+ But with the same match I also relit the larger mirror candles, and those
+ on the floor near the doorway, so that for the moment I seemed to gain on
+ the extinctions. But then in a noiseless volley there vanished four lights
+ at once in different corners of the room, and I struck another match in
+ quivering haste, and stood hesitating whither to take it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed to sweep out the two
+ candles on the table. With a cry of terror I dashed at the alcove, then
+ into the corner and then into the window, relighting three as two more
+ vanished by the fireplace, and then, perceiving a better way, I dropped
+ matches on the iron-bound deedbox in the corner, and caught up the bedroom
+ candlestick. With this I avoided the delay of striking matches, but for
+ all that the steady process of extinction went on, and the shadows I
+ feared and fought against returned, and crept in upon me, first a step
+ gained on this side of me, then on that. I was now almost frantic with the
+ horror of the coming darkness, and my self-possession deserted me. I
+ leaped panting from candle to candle in a vain struggle against that
+ remorseless advance.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I bruised myself in the thigh against the table, I sent a chair headlong,
+ I stumbled and fell and whisked the cloth from the table in my fall. My
+ candle rolled away from me and I snatched another as I rose. Abruptly this
+ was blown out as I swung it off the table by the wind of my sudden
+ movement, and immediately the two remaining candles followed. But there
+ was light still in the room, a red light, that streamed across the ceiling
+ and staved off the shadows from me. The fire! Of course I could still
+ thrust my candle between the bars and relight it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I turned to where the flames were still dancing between the glowing coals
+ and splashing red reflections upon the furniture; made two steps toward
+ the grate, and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished, the glow
+ vanished, the reflections rushed together and disappeared, and as I thrust
+ the candle between the bars darkness closed upon me like the shutting of
+ an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace, sealed my vision, and
+ crushed the last vestiges of self-possession from my brain. And it was not
+ only palpable darkness, but intolerable terror. The candle fell from my
+ hands. I flung out my arms in a vain effort to thrust that ponderous
+ blackness away from me, and lifting up my voice, screamed with all my
+ might, once, twice, thrice. Then I think I must have staggered to my feet.
+ I know I thought suddenly of the moonlit corridor, and with my head bowed
+ and my arms over my face, made a stumbling run for the door.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But I had forgotten the exact position of the door, and I struck myself
+ heavily against the corner of the bed. I staggered back, turned, and was
+ either struck or struck myself against some other bulky furnishing. I have
+ a vague memory of battering myself thus to and fro in the darkness, of a
+ heavy blow at last upon my forehead, of a horrible sensation of falling
+ that lasted an age, of my last frantic effort to keep my footing, and then
+ I remember no more.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I opened my eyes in daylight. My head was roughly bandaged, and the man
+ with the withered hand was watching my face. I looked about me trying to
+ remember what had happened, and for a space I could not recollect. I
+ rolled my eyes into the corner and saw the old woman, no longer
+ abstracted, no longer terrible, pouring out some drops of medicine from a
+ little blue phial into a glass. &ldquo;Where am I?&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I seem to remember
+ you, and yet I can not remember who you are.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They told me then, and I heard of the haunted Red Room as one who hears a
+ tale. &ldquo;We found you at dawn,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and there was blood on your
+ forehead and lips.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I wondered that I had ever disliked him. The three of them in the daylight
+ seemed commonplace old folk enough. The man with the green shade had his
+ head bent as one who sleeps.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was very slowly I recovered the memory of my experience. &ldquo;You believe
+ now,&rdquo; said the old man with the withered hand, &ldquo;that the room is haunted?&rdquo;
+ He spoke no longer as one who greets an intruder, but as one who condoles
+ with a friend.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;the room is haunted.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;And you have seen it. And we who have been here all our lives have never
+ set eyes upon it. Because we have never dared. Tell us, is it truly the
+ old earl who&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;it is not.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I told you so,&rdquo; said the old lady, with the glass in her hand. &ldquo;It is his
+ poor young countess who was frightened&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It is not,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;There is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of countess
+ in that room; there is no ghost there at all, but worse, far worse,
+ something impalpable&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; they said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal men,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;and
+ that is, in all its nakedness&mdash;&lsquo;Fear!&rsquo; Fear that will not have light
+ nor sound, that will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and
+ overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor, it fought against me in
+ the room&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence. My hand went up to
+ my bandages. &ldquo;The candles went out one after another, and I fled&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then the man with the shade lifted his face sideways to see me and spoke.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That is it,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I knew that was it. A Power of Darkness. To put
+ such a curse upon a home! It lurks there always. You can feel it even in
+ the daytime, even of a bright summer&rsquo;s day, in the hangings, in the
+ curtains, keeping behind you however you face about. In the dusk it creeps
+ in the corridor and follows you, so that you dare not turn. It is even as
+ you say. Fear itself is in that room. Black Fear.... And there it will
+ be... so long as this house of sin endures.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 6em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Red Room
+
+Author: H. G. Wells
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2007 [EBook #23218]
+Last Updated: August 23, 2013
+
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE RED ROOM
+
+By H. G. Wells
+
+
+
+
+"I can assure you," said I, "that it will take a very tangible ghost to
+frighten me." And I stood up before the fire with my glass in my hand.
+
+"It is your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm, and glanced
+at me askance.
+
+"Eight-and-twenty years," said I, "I have lived, and never a ghost have I
+seen as yet."
+
+The old woman sat staring hard into the fire, her pale eyes wide open.
+"Ay," she broke in; "and eight-and-twenty years you have lived and never
+seen the likes of this house, I reckon. There's a many things to see, when
+one's still but eight-and-twenty." She swayed her head slowly from side to
+side. "A many things to see and sorrow for."
+
+I half suspected the old people were trying to enhance the spiritual
+terrors of their house by their droning insistence. I put down my empty
+glass on the table and looked about the room, and caught a glimpse of
+myself, abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness, in the
+queer old mirror at the end of the room. "Well," I said, "if I see
+anything to-night, I shall be so much the wiser. For I come to the
+business with an open mind."
+
+"It's your own choosing," said the man with the withered arm once more.
+
+I heard the faint sound of a stick and a shambling step on the flags in
+the passage outside. The door creaked on its hinges as a second old man
+entered, more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than the first. He
+supported himself by the help of a crutch, his eyes were covered by
+a shade, and his lower lip, half averted, hung pale and pink from his
+decaying yellow teeth. He made straight for an armchair on the opposite
+side of the table, sat down clumsily, and began to cough. The man with
+the withered hand gave the newcomer a short glance of positive dislike;
+the old woman took no notice of his arrival, but remained with her eyes
+fixed steadily on the fire.
+
+"I said--it's your own choosing," said the man with the withered hand,
+when the coughing had ceased for a while.
+
+"It's my own choosing," I answered.
+
+The man with the shade became aware of my presence for the first time,
+and threw his head back for a moment, and sidewise, to see me. I caught
+a momentary glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed. Then he
+began to cough and splutter again.
+
+"Why don't you drink?" said the man with the withered arm, pushing the
+beer toward him. The man with the shade poured out a glassful with a
+shaking hand, that splashed half as much again on the deal table. A
+monstrous shadow of him crouched upon the wall, and mocked his action
+as he poured and drank. I must confess I had scarcely expected these
+grotesque custodians. There is, to my mind, something inhuman in
+senility, something crouching and atavistic; the human qualities seem
+to drop from old people insensibly day by day. The three of them made me
+feel uncomfortable with their gaunt silences, their bent carriage,
+their evident unfriendliness to me and to one another. And that night,
+perhaps, I was in the mood for uncomfortable impressions. I resolved to
+get away from their vague fore-shadowings of the evil things upstairs.
+
+"If," said I, "you will show me to this haunted room of yours, I will
+make myself comfortable there."
+
+The old man with the cough jerked his head back so suddenly that it
+startled me, and shot another glance of his red eyes at me from out of
+the darkness under the shade, but no one answered me. I waited a minute,
+glancing from one to the other. The old woman stared like a dead body,
+glaring into the fire with lack-lustre eyes.
+
+"If," I said, a little louder, "if you will show me to this haunted room
+of yours, I will relieve you from the task of entertaining me."
+
+"There's a candle on the slab outside the door," said the man with the
+withered hand, looking at my feet as he addressed me. "But if you go to
+the Red Room to-night--"
+
+"This night of all nights!" said the old woman, softly.
+
+"--You go alone."
+
+"Very well," I answered, shortly, "and which way do I go?"
+
+"You go along the passage for a bit," said he, nodding his head on his
+shoulder at the door, "until you come to a spiral staircase; and on the
+second landing is a door covered with green baize. Go through that, and
+down the long corridor to the end, and the Red Room is on your left up
+the steps."
+
+"Have I got that right?" I said, and repeated his directions.
+
+He corrected me in one particular.
+
+"And you are really going?" said the man with the shade, looking at me
+again for the third time with that queer, unnatural tilting of the face.
+
+"This night of all nights!" whispered the old woman.
+
+"It is what I came for," I said, and moved toward the door. As I did so,
+the old man with the shade rose and staggered round the table, so as to
+be closer to the others and to the fire. At the door I turned and
+looked at them, and saw they were all close together, dark against the
+firelight, staring at me over their shoulders, with an intent expression
+on their ancient faces.
+
+"Good-night," I said, setting the door open. "It's your own choosing,"
+said the man with the withered arm.
+
+I left the door wide open until the candle was well alight, and then I
+shut them in, and walked down the chilly, echoing passage.
+
+I must confess that the oddness of these three old pensioners in
+whose charge her ladyship had left the castle, and the deep-toned,
+old-fashioned furniture of the housekeeper's room, in which they
+foregathered, had affected me curiously in spite of my effort to keep
+myself at a matter-of-fact phase. They seemed to belong to another age,
+an older age, an age when things spiritual were indeed to be feared,
+when common sense was uncommon, an age when omens and witches were
+credible, and ghosts beyond denying. Their very existence, thought I, is
+spectral; the cut of their clothing, fashions born in dead brains; the
+ornaments and conveniences in the room about them even are ghostly--the
+thoughts of vanished men, which still haunt rather than participate in
+the world of to-day. And the passage I was in, long and shadowy, with
+a film of moisture glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold as a
+thing that is dead and rigid. But with an effort I sent such thoughts
+to the right-about. The long, drafty subterranean passage was chilly and
+dusty, and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The
+echoes rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping
+up after me, and another fled before me into the darkness overhead. I
+came to the wide landing and stopped there for a moment listening to a
+rustling that I fancied I heard creeping behind me, and then, satisfied
+of the absolute silence, pushed open the unwilling baize-covered door
+and stood in the silent corridor.
+
+The effect was scarcely what I expected, for the moonlight, coming in by
+the great window on the grand staircase, picked out everything in vivid
+black shadow or reticulated silvery illumination. Everything seemed in
+its proper position; the house might have been deserted on the yesterday
+instead of twelve months ago. There were candles in the sockets of
+the sconces, and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the
+polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in my
+candlelight. A waiting stillness was over everything. I was about to
+advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group stood upon the landing
+hidden from me by a corner of the wall; but its shadow fell with
+marvelous distinctness upon the white paneling, and gave me the
+impression of some one crouching to waylay me. The thing jumped upon
+my attention suddenly. I stood rigid for half a moment, perhaps. Then,
+with my hand in the pocket that held the revolver, I advanced, only
+to discover a Ganymede and Eagle, glistening in the moonlight. That
+incident for a time restored my nerve, and a dim porcelain Chinaman on a
+buhl table, whose head rocked as I passed, scarcely startled me.
+
+The door of the Red Room and the steps up to it were in a shadowy
+corner. I moved my candle from side to side in order to see clearly the
+nature of the recess in which I stood, before opening the door. Here it
+was, thought I, that my predecessor was found, and the memory of
+that story gave me a sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over my
+shoulder at the black Ganymede in the moonlight, and opened the door
+of the Red Room rather hastily, with my face half turned to the pallid
+silence of the corridor.
+
+I entered, closed the door behind me at once, turned the key I found
+in the lock within, and stood with the candle held aloft surveying the
+scene of my vigil, the great Red Room of Lorraine Castle, in which the
+young Duke had died; or rather in which he had begun his dying, for
+he had opened the door and fallen headlong down the steps I had just
+ascended. That had been the end of his vigil, of his gallant attempt to
+conquer the ghostly tradition of the place, and never, I thought, had
+apoplexy better served the ends of superstition. There were other
+and older stories that clung to the room, back to the half-incredible
+beginning of it all, the tale of a timid wife and the tragic end that
+came to her husband's jest of frightening her. And looking round that
+huge shadowy room with its black window bays, its recesses and alcoves,
+its dusty brown-red hangings and dark gigantic furniture, one could
+well understand the legends that had sprouted in its black corners, its
+germinating darknesses. My candle was a little tongue of light in the
+vastness of the chamber; its rays failed to pierce to the opposite
+end of the room, and left an ocean of dull red mystery and suggestion,
+sentinel shadows and watching darknesses beyond its island of light. And
+the stillness of desolation brooded over it all.
+
+I must confess some impalpable quality of that ancient room disturbed
+me. I tried to fight the feeling down. I resolved to make a systematic
+examination of the place, and so, by leaving nothing to the imagination,
+dispel the fanciful suggestions of the obscurity before they obtained
+a hold upon me. After satisfying myself of the fastening of the door, I
+began to walk round the room, peering round each article of furniture,
+tucking up the valances of the bed and opening its curtains wide. In
+one place there was a distinct echo to my footsteps, the noises I made
+seemed so little that they enhanced rather than broke the silence of the
+place. I pulled up the blinds and examined the fastenings of the several
+windows. Attracted by the fall of a particle of dust, I leaned forward
+and looked up the blackness of the wide chimney. Then, trying to
+preserve my scientific attitude of mind, I walked round and began
+tapping the oak paneling for any secret opening, but I desisted before
+reaching the alcove. I saw my face in a mirror--white.
+
+There were two big mirrors in the room, each with a pair of sconces
+bearing candles, and on the mantelshelf, too, were candles in china
+candle-sticks. All these I lit one after the other. The fire was
+laid--an unexpected consideration from the old housekeeper--and I lit
+it, to keep down any disposition to shiver, and when it was burning
+well I stood round with my back to it and regarded the room again. I
+had pulled up a chintz-covered armchair and a table to form a kind of
+barricade before me. On this lay my revolver, ready to hand. My precise
+examination had done me a little good, but I still found the remoter
+darkness of the place and its perfect stillness too stimulating for the
+imagination. The echoing of the stir and crackling of the fire was no
+sort of comfort to me. The shadow in the alcove at the end of the
+room began to display that undefinable quality of a presence, that odd
+suggestion of a lurking living thing that comes so easily in silence
+and solitude. And to reassure myself, I walked with a candle into it
+and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible there. I stood that
+candle upon the floor of the alcove and left it in that position.
+
+By this time I was in a state of considerable nervous tension, although
+to my reason there was no adequate cause for my condition. My mind,
+however, was perfectly clear. I postulated quite unreservedly that
+nothing supernatural could happen, and to pass the time I began
+stringing some rhymes together, Ingoldsby fashion, concerning the
+original legend of the place. A few I spoke aloud, but the echoes were
+not pleasant. For the same reason I also abandoned, after a time, a
+conversation with myself upon the impossibility of ghosts and haunting.
+My mind reverted to the three old and distorted people downstairs, and I
+tried to keep it upon that topic.
+
+The sombre reds and grays of the room troubled me; even with its seven
+candles the place was merely dim. The light in the alcove flaring in
+a draft, and the fire flickering, kept the shadows and penumbra
+perpetually shifting and stirring in a noiseless flighty dance. Casting
+about for a remedy, I recalled the wax candles I had seen in the
+corridor, and, with a slight effort, carrying a candle and leaving the
+door open, I walked out into the moonlight, and presently returned with
+as many as ten. These I put in the various knick-knacks of china with
+which the room was sparsely adorned, and lit and placed them where
+the shadows had lain deepest, some on the floor, some in the window
+recesses, arranging and rearranging them until at last my seventeen
+candles were so placed that not an inch of the room but had the direct
+light of at least one of them. It occurred to me that when the ghost
+came I could warn him not to trip over them. The room was now quite
+brightly illuminated. There was something very cheering and reassuring
+in these little silent streaming flames, and to notice their steady
+diminution of length offered me an occupation and gave me a reassuring
+sense of the passage of time.
+
+Even with that, however, the brooding expectation of the vigil weighed
+heavily enough upon me. I stood watching the minute hand of my watch
+creep towards midnight.
+
+Then something happened in the alcove. I did not see the candle go out,
+I simply turned and saw that the darkness was there, as one might start
+and see the unexpected presence of a stranger. The black shadow had
+sprung back to its place. "By Jove," said I aloud, recovering from my
+surprise, "that draft's a strong one;" and taking the matchbox from the
+table, I walked across the room in a leisurely manner to relight the
+corner again. My first match would not strike, and as I succeeded with
+the second, something seemed to blink on the wall before me. I turned my
+head involuntarily and saw that the two candles on the little table by
+the fireplace were extinguished. I rose at once to my feet.
+
+"Odd," I said. "Did I do that myself in a flash of absent-mindedness?"
+
+I walked back, relit one, and as I did so I saw the candle in the
+right sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right out, and almost
+immediately its companion followed it. The flames vanished as if the
+wick had been suddenly nipped between a finger and thumb, leaving the
+wick neither glowing nor smoking, but black. While I stood gaping the
+candle at the foot of the bed went out, and the shadows seemed to take
+another step toward me.
+
+"This won't do!" said I, and first one and then another candle on the
+mantelshelf followed.
+
+"What's up?" I cried, with a queer high note getting into my voice
+somehow. At that the candle on the corner of the wardrobe went out, and
+the one I had relit in the alcove followed.
+
+"Steady on!" I said, "those candles are wanted," speaking with a
+half-hysterical facetiousness, and scratching away at a match the
+while, "for the mantel candlesticks." My hands trembled so much that
+twice I missed the rough paper of the matchbox. As the mantel emerged
+from darkness again, two candles in the remoter end of the room were
+eclipsed. But with the same match I also relit the larger mirror
+candles, and those on the floor near the doorway, so that for the moment
+I seemed to gain on the extinctions. But then in a noiseless volley
+there vanished four lights at once in different corners of the room, and
+I struck another match in quivering haste, and stood hesitating whither
+to take it.
+
+As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed to sweep out the two
+candles on the table. With a cry of terror I dashed at the alcove, then
+into the corner and then into the window, relighting three as two more
+vanished by the fireplace, and then, perceiving a better way, I dropped
+matches on the iron-bound deedbox in the corner, and caught up the
+bedroom candlestick. With this I avoided the delay of striking matches,
+but for all that the steady process of extinction went on, and the
+shadows I feared and fought against returned, and crept in upon me,
+first a step gained on this side of me, then on that. I was now almost
+frantic with the horror of the coming darkness, and my self-possession
+deserted me. I leaped panting from candle to candle in a vain struggle
+against that remorseless advance.
+
+I bruised myself in the thigh against the table, I sent a chair
+headlong, I stumbled and fell and whisked the cloth from the table in
+my fall. My candle rolled away from me and I snatched another as I rose.
+Abruptly this was blown out as I swung it off the table by the wind of
+my sudden movement, and immediately the two remaining candles followed.
+But there was light still in the room, a red light, that streamed across
+the ceiling and staved off the shadows from me. The fire! Of course I
+could still thrust my candle between the bars and relight it.
+
+I turned to where the flames were still dancing between the glowing
+coals and splashing red reflections upon the furniture; made two steps
+toward the grate, and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished,
+the glow vanished, the reflections rushed together and disappeared, and
+as I thrust the candle between the bars darkness closed upon me like the
+shutting of an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace, sealed my
+vision, and crushed the last vestiges of self-possession from my brain.
+And it was not only palpable darkness, but intolerable terror. The
+candle fell from my hands. I flung out my arms in a vain effort to
+thrust that ponderous blackness away from me, and lifting up my voice,
+screamed with all my might, once, twice, thrice. Then I think I must
+have staggered to my feet. I know I thought suddenly of the moonlit
+corridor, and with my head bowed and my arms over my face, made a
+stumbling run for the door.
+
+But I had forgotten the exact position of the door, and I struck myself
+heavily against the corner of the bed. I staggered back, turned, and was
+either struck or struck myself against some other bulky furnishing. I
+have a vague memory of battering myself thus to and fro in the darkness,
+of a heavy blow at last upon my forehead, of a horrible sensation
+of falling that lasted an age, of my last frantic effort to keep my
+footing, and then I remember no more.
+
+I opened my eyes in daylight. My head was roughly bandaged, and the man
+with the withered hand was watching my face. I looked about me trying
+to remember what had happened, and for a space I could not recollect.
+I rolled my eyes into the corner and saw the old woman, no longer
+abstracted, no longer terrible, pouring out some drops of medicine
+from a little blue phial into a glass. "Where am I?" I said. "I seem to
+remember you, and yet I can not remember who you are."
+
+They told me then, and I heard of the haunted Red Room as one who hears
+a tale. "We found you at dawn," said he, "and there was blood on your
+forehead and lips."
+
+I wondered that I had ever disliked him. The three of them in the
+daylight seemed commonplace old folk enough. The man with the green
+shade had his head bent as one who sleeps.
+
+It was very slowly I recovered the memory of my experience. "You
+believe now," said the old man with the withered hand, "that the room is
+haunted?" He spoke no longer as one who greets an intruder, but as one
+who condoles with a friend.
+
+"Yes," said I, "the room is haunted."
+
+"And you have seen it. And we who have been here all our lives have
+never set eyes upon it. Because we have never dared. Tell us, is it
+truly the old earl who--"
+
+"No," said I, "it is not."
+
+"I told you so," said the old lady, with the glass in her hand. "It is
+his poor young countess who was frightened--"
+
+"It is not," I said. "There is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of
+countess in that room; there is no ghost there at all, but worse, far
+worse, something impalpable--"
+
+"Well?" they said.
+
+"The worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal men," said I; "and
+that is, in all its nakedness--'Fear!' Fear that will not have light
+nor sound, that will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and
+overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor, it fought against me in
+the room--"
+
+I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence. My hand went up to
+my bandages. "The candles went out one after another, and I fled--"
+
+Then the man with the shade lifted his face sideways to see me and
+spoke.
+
+"That is it," said he. "I knew that was it. A Power of Darkness. To put
+such a curse upon a home! It lurks there always. You can feel it even
+in the daytime, even of a bright summer's day, in the hangings, in the
+curtains, keeping behind you however you face about. In the dusk it
+creeps in the corridor and follows you, so that you dare not turn. It is
+even as you say. Fear itself is in that room. Black Fear.... And there
+it will be... so long as this house of sin endures."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Red Room, by H. G. Wells
+
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