One Easter Night.

Hastings Standard, Issue 352, 19 June 1897, Page 4

One Easter Night.

[Specially Wbittex for the Hastings

Standaed.l

By W. McL

(All Ri<)lits Reserved.)

It is some years ago now, when I was an innocent bachelor—l am innocent now, but not quite so bad as I was twenty years ago, when I and two others were lodging with an old lady named Mrs Lonighan. I jremember it was Easter, and as nay fellow lodgers had a home to go to, somewhere near Danevirke, and sweethearts to see, they found it very easy to leave me behind under the motherly care of Mrs Lonighan. Therefore, during the time they were away the house only contained the landlady and myself. Mrs Lonighan's daughter had been married about twelve months, and consequently on the second night after the departure of my fellow lodgers I was aroused from my sweet slumbers by a terrific hammering at the front door. It seemed to me that a brick had fallen into the middle of my room, and as I sat up and rubbed my eyes I heard a small voice say, " Mary says she's not well, and you'd better come at once."

I thought that was about the richest thing I had heard of for a long time. Why the deuce couldn't Mary wait till the morning, instead of waking up all hands at 2.30 a.m. just because she didn't fell well ? That just the way with women.

However, I knew Mrs Lonighan's temper pretty well, and I waited, expecting to hear a few well chosen and expressive words, but greatly to my astonishment I heard nothing —at least, nothing choice. She told the youngsters to come in while she put on a few things, and after doing so she came and tapped softly at my door, at the same time asking mo if I was awake. Of course I was, thrmks to Mary not being well. I was wide awake. She said she was just going round to her daughter's, and from the way she spoke one would suppose that we had just finished tea.

The thing seemed so absurd that I felt quite wild, and I said, " Why on earth couldn't she wait till morning ? What's the matter ? What are you going for at this time in the night ?" She said something in answer, but I didn't catch it. So I was left in the house by myself. As I said before I was wide awake, and after I heard Mrs L. take her departure I spent about fifteen minutes trying to convince myself that I had not been dreaming. Not being able to do so satisfactorily, I lit my candle, intending to read. After opening, shutting and rubbing my eyes till obey got used to the candle light it gradually dawned upon me that there was something strange about the room.

My dressing-table, which ran at right angle with the head of my bed and across, the window seemed somehow disarruged ; and on looking from there to the lioor I saw that the look-ing-glass was lying on its face and a large pin cushion (which by some miracle I won at a bazaar) was lying over by the door. Of course I naturally felt curious, so I got out of bed ar.d picked up the glass. I examined it and found that it was not broken. I replaced it on the dressing-table and went after the pin cushion. It suddenly struck rne that somebody had baen having a lark by opening the window and giving the glass a good push. That, however, was impossible, as the window was securely fastened. Still I had been to sleep for two or three hours and someone might have come in at the door.

It seemed queer, anyway ; but after putting things straight I locked the door, got into bed again and read for about oali-au-hour. Feeling sleepy I blew out my candle, and after screwing about a little and cuddling myself up a little more, I dozed. I must have only dozed because when I came to my senses I found myself sitting bolt upright in bed. At first I expected to hoar Mrs Lonighan moving about, thinking, of course, that the noise which startled me was her banging the door as she came in.

I could hear nothing, so I called out "Is that you Mrs Lonighan ? " No answer.

I then struck a match and lit the candle. The instant I did so I discovered the looking-glass on the floor, exactly as it was before, but this time the pin-cushion remained where I had put it. I looked round the room, expecting to see one of my fellow-lodgers planted, as I was quite convinced by this time that it was a trick or practical joke of some sort. »

The window was fastened and the door was locked. I looked under the bed and felt some clothes I had hanging up. I was quire positive there was nothing in the room. Then who knocked the iookiug-glass over ?

I was fairly puzzled—ghosts ? well, of course, that's nonsense. Perhaps it was a dream ; but no, the pin I took out of the cushion and stuck into my leg felt just like it ought to feel. I was awake right enough, but what had happened I couldn't make out except that the looking glass was on the floor.

I picked it up once more and put it in its place, then I again looked carefully round the room. Then I examined the fastening of the window, which was quite secure. I then opened my door and looked up and down the passage. Everything seemed quiet enough. I returned to my room and locked the door. I also drew the little bolt which pushes out from under the lock. I looked round the room again and under the bed. I even looked at the window again, and at last got into

bed fully convinced that it was a mystery ; but at the same time I was sure no one could get into the room withcn-t breaking the window or bursting the door open. Onco more I got into bed and ble k out the candle. I was determined to listen for the slightest sound, and put the matches just where I could lay my hand on them in an instant. I kept on listening and I could hear nothing—not a sound of any sort; and once more I suppose I dozed. I heard a noise and I immediately grabbed the matches; at the same time over went the looking glass. When I had struck the match there it lay, just as it had before, and curiously enough it never broke the glass. .

I began to swear this time and I also began to feel just a little bit nervous. I could make nothing of it. This time the glass was actually knocked over, while I was in the act of striking a match, and as soon as it was struck not a sound ; nor could I see anything. I surveyed myself in the glass after

once more replacing it

I hardly knew myself, and I am sure a night-shirt doesn't suit me. I looked mighty uncomfortable —my hair stood up as straight as wire nails, and my face was bespangled with cold perspiration. I am not nervous as a rule, nor am I easily frightened ; but this was beyond anything I had ever heard of. I could think of nothing that would account for it. I looked round the room again, and ascertained that the door and window were exactly as I had left them.

For the fourth time I got into bed. I left the candle burning. I should have let it burn till morning only I could see it would not last above another hour, and it still wanted two hours before daylight. I let half the candle burn down, and nothing happened. Then I blew it out; but sleep was out of the question. I tossed and rolled about. I even tried to sleep but couldn't. I congratulated myself, however, that it would soon be daylight; after which I suppose I again dozed. Whether I heard anything I don't know, but the room suddenly seemed to be like a battle - field, and as suddenly became as quiet as ever. The last thing I heard was my box of matches rolling away.

I was afraid to move—-where was it ? What was it '? And how did it get in ? And why? I couldn't think. At last I made up my mind that I must have a light at any cost; but how was I to get my matches ? I knew pretty well where they had had rolled to, but for the life of me I couldn't put my legs out of bed. It just struck me that perhaps I didn't look under the bed as 1 should have done, and I got it into my head that " he," " she," or " it" was under the bed.

At last I decided to push the chair, which stood between my bed and the dressing table, out towards where I thought the matches rolled and then step from the bed to the chair and grope with my hands on the floor for the matches.

I anticipated some difficulty, but it was the only safe Avay I could think of the time. So I pushed the chair out as far as I could and stood on the bed. Then I had forgotten just where the chair was end had to kneel down again and feel for it. Of course it was just where I had put it. It was so dark I could see nothing in the room.

Then I prepared for a step. I have often heard people talk of the next step—mine was on to the chair. I did it, with my nightgown held well up so that I shouldn't trip. So far so good. I was fearfully scared. I trembled like a leaf, and greatly to my disgust I found that I could only feel round the legs of the chair, and just as I was stretching my arm out every inch I could spare without going over I heard something that finished it.

Over I went. I shall never forget it. Wherever I am transferred to after I leave this w r orld I shall remember that awful noise.

It was something between a howl, a wail, a growl, a groan, and a moan. I lay in a heap on the floor. I thought I baa fainted, but I suppose I didn't because I heard the noise again after a few moments. " M-e-a-o-w !" Yes ; that's it. Simply a cat.

It was not Mrs Lonighan's cat or it would not have been frightened so much. You see, every time the poor brute got startled it jumped on the dressing-table, and from there by the aid of the glass on to the middle of the window ; and from there it jumped and clung on to the inside of the curtains and capsized the glass each time in doing so. What about Mrs Lonighan's daughter Mary ? Oh ! she's all right. Boy ? Both doing well.