Footsteps in the Dark Read Free

you know how it is when you've got the wind up, and you sit listening like as if your eardrums 'ud burst with the strain? Well, that's how I was, listening and watching. Whenever a leaf rustled I strained my eyes to see what was there. But there was nothing. Then it stole over me that there was something behind me." He stopped, and passed the back of his hand across his forehead. "Well, that's a feeling anyone can get if he's properly scared, but this was more than a feeling. I knew it. I'd still got some of my wits left and I knew there was only one thing to be done, and that was turn round, and look. Yes, it sounds easy, but I swear to you, sir, it took every ounce of courage in me. I did it. I fair wrenched myself round, with the blood hammering in my head. And I saw it, plain as I see you, standing right behind me, looking down at me."
    "Saw what?" demanded Peter, quite worked up.
    The landlord gave a shiver. "They call it the Monk round here," he answered. "I suppose it was that. But I only saw a tall black figure, and no face, but just two eyes looking out of blackness straight at me."
    "Your pal Tillman dressed up to give you a fright," said Charles.
    Wilkes looked at him. "Ben Tillman couldn't have vanished, sir. And that's what the Monk did. Just disappeared. You may say I imagined it, but all I know is I wouldn't do what I did that night again, not for a thousand pounds."
    There was a slight pause. The man by the window got up and strolled out of the taproom. Peter set his tankard down. "Well, thanks very much," he said. "Cheery little story."
    Charles had been watching the thin stranger. "Who's our departed friend?" he inquired.
    "Commercial, Sir. He's working the places round here with some sort of a vacuum-cleaner, so I understand, and doing a bit of fishing in between-whiles."
    "Seemed to be interested in ghosts," was all Charles said.
    But when he and Peter had left the Bell Inn, Peter asked abruptly: "What did you mean by that, Chas? Did you think the fellow was listening to us?"
    "Didn't you?" Charles said.
    "Well, yes, but I don't know that that was altogether surprising."
    "No. But he didn't seem to want us to notice his interest, did he? Where's this grocer we're looking for?"
    At the grocer's, which turned out to be also the post office and linen-draper, after the manner of village shops, the two men were accosted by a gentleman in clerical attire, who was buying stamps. He introduced himself as the Vicar, and told them that he and his wife were only waiting until the newcomers had had time to settle into the Priory before they paid a call on them.
    "One is glad to see the Priory occupied once more," he said. "Alas, too many of our old houses are spurned nowadays for lack of "modern conveniences."'
    "We were rather under the impression, sir, that this particular house has been spurned on account of ghosts,"
    Peter said.
    The Vicar smiled. "Ah, I fear you must seek confirmation of that story from one more credulous than my poor self," he announced. "Such tales, I find, invariably spring up round deserted houses. I venture to prophesy that the Priory ghost proves itself to be nothing more harmful than a mouse, or perhaps a rat."
    "Oh, so we think," Charles answered. "But it's really rather a nuisance, for my wife had banked on getting a local housemaid, and the best she can manage is a daily girl, who takes precious good care she's out of the place before sundown."
    Mr. Pennythorne listened to this with an air of smiling tolerance. "Strange how tenacious these simple countryfolk are of superstitions," he said musingly. "But you are not without domestic help, one trusts?"
    "No, no, we have our butler and his wife." Charles gathered up his change from the counter, and thrust an unwieldy package into Peter's hands. "Are you going our way, sir? Can we drop you anywhere?"
    "No, I thank you. Is it your car that stands outside the Bell Inn? I will accompany you as far as that if I may."
    They strolled out of the