Page 38 - The English Carnival 7

of, “For God’s sake, clear the way!”

Then he went on. “I have no peace or rest for it. It calls to me, for many minutes
together, in an agonised manner, ‘Below there! Look out! Look out!’ It stands waving

to me. It rings my little bell.”

I caught at that. “Did it ring your bell yesterday evening when I was here, and you
went to the door?”

“Twice.”

“Why, see,” said I, “how your imagination
misleads you. My eyes were on the bell, and
my ears were open to the bell, and if I am a
living man, it did NOT ring at those times. No,
nor at any other time, except when it was rung

in the natural course of physical things by the
station communicating with you.”

He shook his head. “I have never made a mistake
as to that yet, sir. I have never confused the
spectre’s ring with the man’s. The ghost’s ring
is a strange vibration in the bell that it derives
from nothing else, and I have not asserted that

the bell stirs to the eye. I don’t wonder that
you failed to hear it. But I heard it.”

“And did the spectre seem to be there, when
you looked out?”

“It WAS there.”

“Both times?”

He repeated firmly: “Both times.”

“Will you come to the door with me, and look
for it now?”

He bit his under lip as though he were somewhat
unwilling, but arose. I opened the door, and
stood on the step, while he stood in the doorway.

There was the Danger-light. There was the dismal mouth of the tunnel. There were the
high, wet stone walls of the cutting. There were the stars above them.

“Do you see it?” I asked him, taking particular note of his face. His eyes were prominent
and strained, but not very much more so, perhaps, than my own had been when I had

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