WEBVTT

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Welcome to Macabre Miscellanea, a curated collection

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of classic curiosities. There is a particular

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kind of courage that announces itself in advance.

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Our narrator tonight has been 8 and 20 years

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without encountering a ghost, and he'd like you

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to know that. He has an open mind, a scientific

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disposition, a revolver he will not use, and

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17 candles. He has taken every reasonable precaution.

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by his own assessment, entirely prepared. The

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house disagrees. Tonight's tale, The Red Room,

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by H .G. Wells. Turn down the lights. Let's begin.

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I can assure you, said I, that it will take a

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very tangible ghost to frighten me. And I stood

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up before the fire with my glass in my hand.

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It is your own choosing, said the man with the

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withered arm, and glanced at me askance. Eight

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and twenty years, said I. I have lived, and never

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a ghost have I seen as yet. The old woman sat

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staring hard into the fire, her pale eyes wide

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open. She broke in. An eight and twenty years

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you have lived and never seen the likes of this

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house, I reckon. There's a many things to see

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when one's still but eight and twenty. She swayed

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her head slowly from side to side. A many things

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to see and sorrow for. I half suspected the old

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people were trying to enhance the spiritual terrors

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of their house. by their droning insistence.

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I put down my empty glass on the table and looked

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about the room, and caught a glimpse of myself,

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abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness,

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in the queer old mirror at the end of the room.

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Well, I said, if I see anything tonight, I shall

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be so much the wiser, for I come to the business

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with an open mind. It's your own choosing, said

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the man with the withered arm once more. I heard

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the faint sound of a stick and a shambling step

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on the flags in the passage outside. The door

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creaked on its hinges as a second old man entered,

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more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than

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the first. He supported himself by the help of

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a crutch. His eyes were covered by a shade. and

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his lower lip, half averted, hung pale and pink

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from his decaying yellow teeth. He made straight

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for an armchair on the opposite side of the table,

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sat down clumsily, and began to cough. The man

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with the withered hand gave the newcomer a short

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glance of positive dislike. The old woman took

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no notice of his arrival, but remained with her

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eyes fixed steadily on the fire. I said, it's

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your own choosing, said the man with the withered

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hand when the coughing had ceased for a while.

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It's my own choosing, I answered. The man with

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the shade became aware of my presence for the

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first time and threw his head back for a moment,

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and sidewise, to see me. I caught a momentary

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glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed.

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Then he began to cough and splutter again. Why

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don't you drink? said the man with the withered

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arm, pushing the beer toward him. The man with

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the shade poured out a glassful with a shaking

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hand that splashed half as much again on the

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deal table. A monstrous shadow of him crouched

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upon the wall and mocked his action as he poured

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and drank. I must confess. I had scarcely expected

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these grotesque custodians. There is, to my mind,

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something inhuman in senility, something crouching

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and atavistic. The human qualities seem to drop

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from old people insensibly day by day. The three

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of them made me feel uncomfortable with their

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gaunt silences, their bent carriage, their evident

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unfriendliness to me and to one another. And

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that night, perhaps, I was in the mood for uncomfortable

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impressions. I resolved to get away from their

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vague foreshadowings of the evil things upstairs.

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If, said I, you will show me to this haunted

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room of yours, I will make myself comfortable

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there. The old man with the cough jerked his

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head back so suddenly, that it startled me, and

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shot another glance of his red eyes at me from

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out of the darkness under the shade. But no one

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answered me. I waited a minute, glancing from

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one to the other. The old woman stared like a

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dead body, glaring into the fire with lackluster

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eyes. If, I said a little louder, if you will

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show me to this haunted room of yours, I will

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relieve you from the task of entertaining me.

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There's a candle on the slab outside the door,

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said the man with the withered hand, looking

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at my feet as he addressed me. But if you go

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to the Red Room tonight... This night of all

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nights, said the old woman softly. You go alone?

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Very well. I answered shortly. And which way

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do I go? You go along the passage for a bit,

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said he, nodding his head on his shoulder at

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the door. Until you come to a spiral staircase,

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and on the second landing is a door covered with

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green bays. Go through that, and down the long

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corridor to the end, and the red room is on your

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left up the steps. Have I got that right? I said,

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and repeated his directions. He corrected me

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in one particular. And you are really going?

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said the man with the shade, looking at me again

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for the third time with that queer, unnatural

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tilting of the face. This night of all nights,

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whispered the old woman. It is what I came for,

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I said. and moved toward the door. As I did so,

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the old man with the shade rose and staggered

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around the table so as to be closer to the others

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and to the fire. At the door, I turned and looked

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at them and saw they were all close together,

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dark against the firelight, staring at me over

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their shoulders with an intent expression on

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their ancient faces. Good night, I said, setting

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the door open. It's your own choosing, said the

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man with the withered arm. I left the door wide

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open until the candle was well alight, and then

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I shut them in and walked down the chilly, echoing

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passage. I must confess that the oddness of these

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three old pensioners in whose charge her ladyship

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had left the castle and the deep -toned, old

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-fashioned furniture of the housekeeper's room,

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in which they foregathered, had affected me curiously,

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in spite of my effort to keep myself at a matter

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-of -fact phase. They seemed to belong to another

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age, an older age, an age when things spiritual

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were indeed to be feared, when common sense was

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uncommon, an age when omens and witches were

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credible, and ghosts beyond denying. Their very

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existence, thought I, is spectral. The cut of

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their clothing, fashions born in dead brains,

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the ornaments and conveniences in the room about

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them even are ghostly. The thoughts of vanished

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men, which still haunt rather than participate

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in the world of today. And the passage I was

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in, long and shadowy. with a film of moisture

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glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold

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as a thing that is dead and rigid. But with an

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effort, I sent such thoughts to the right about.

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The long, drafty, subterranean passage was chilly

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and dusty, and my candle flared and made the

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shadows cower and quiver. The echoes rang up

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and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came

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sweeping up after me. and another fled before

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me into the darkness overhead. I came to the

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wide landing and stopped there for a moment,

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listening to a rustling that I fancied I heard

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creeping behind me, and then, satisfied of the

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absolute silence, pushed open the unwilling bays

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-covered door and stood in the silent corridor.

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The effect was scarcely what I expected. For

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the moonlight, coming in by the great window

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on the grand staircase, picked out everything

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in vivid black shadow or reticulated silvery

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illumination. Everything seemed in its proper

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position. The house might have been deserted

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on the yesterday instead of twelve months ago.

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There were candles in the sockets of the sconces.

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and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets

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or upon the polished flooring was distributed

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so evenly as to be invisible in my candlelight.

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A waiting stillness was over everything. I was

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about to advance and stopped abruptly. A bronze

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group stood upon the landing hidden from me by

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a corner of the wall, but its shadow fell with

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marvelous distinctness upon the white paneling.

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and gave me the impression of someone crouching

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to waylay me. The thing jumped upon my attention

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suddenly. I stood rigid for half a moment, perhaps.

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Then, with my hand in the pocket that held the

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revolver, I advanced, only to discover a Ganymede

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and eagle glistening in the moonlight. That incident,

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for a time, restored my nerve, and a dim porcelain

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Chinaman, on a ball table, whose head rocked

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as I passed, scarcely startled me. The door of

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the red room and the steps up to it were in a

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shadowy corner. I moved my candle from side to

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side in order to see clearly the nature of the

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recess in which I stood before opening the door.

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Here it was, thought I, that my predecessor was

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found. and the memory of that story gave me a

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sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over

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my shoulder at the black Ganymede in the moonlight,

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and opened the door of the Red Room rather hastily,

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with my face half turned to the pallid silence

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of the corridor. I entered, closed the door behind

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me at once, turned the key I found in the lock

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within, and stood with the candle held aloft

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surveying the scene of my vigil, the great red

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room of Lorraine Castle, in which the young Duke

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had died. Or rather, in which he had begun his

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dying, for he had opened the door and fallen

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headlong down the steps I had just ascended.

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That had been the end of his vigil, of his gallant

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attempt to conquer the ghostly tradition of the

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place, and never, I thought. had apoplexy better

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served the ends of superstition. There were other

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and older stories that clung to the room, back

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to the half -incredible beginning of it all,

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the tale of a timid wife, and the tragic end

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that came to her husband's jest of frightening

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her. And looking round that huge shadowy room

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with its black window bays, its recesses and

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alcoves, its dusty brown -red hangings and dark,

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gigantic furniture. One could well understand

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the legends that had sprouted in its black corners,

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its germinating darknesses. My candle was a little

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tongue of light in the vastness of the chamber.

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Its rays failed to pierce to the opposite end

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of the room and left an ocean of dull red mystery

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and suggestion. sentinel shadows and watching

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darknesses beyond its island of light, and the

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stillness of desolation brooded over it all.

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I must confess some impalpable quality of that

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ancient room disturbed me. I tried to fight the

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feeling down. I resolved to make a systematic

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examination of the place, and so... By leaving

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nothing to the imagination, dispel the fanciful

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suggestions of the obscurity before they obtained

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a hold upon me. After satisfying myself of the

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fastening of the door, I began to walk round

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the room, peering round each article of furniture,

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tucking up the valances of the bed and opening

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its curtains wide. In one place, there was a

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distinct echo to my footsteps. The noises I made

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seemed so little that they enhanced rather than

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broke the silence of the place. I pulled up the

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blinds and examined the fastenings of the several

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windows. Attracted by the fall of a particle

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of dust, I leaned forward and looked up the blackness

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of the wide chimney. Then, trying to preserve

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my scientific attitude of mind, I walked round

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and began tapping the oak panelling for any secret

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opening, but I desisted before reaching the alcove.

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I saw my face in a mirror. White. There were

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two big mirrors in the room, each with a pair

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of sconces bearing candles, and on the mantel

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shelf, too, were candles in china candlesticks.

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All these I lit one after the other. The fire

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was laid. an unexpected consideration from the

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old housekeeper, and I lit it to keep down any

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disposition to shiver. And when it was burning

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well, I stood round with my back to it and regarded

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the room again. I had pulled up a chintz -covered

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armchair and a table to form a kind of barricade

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before me. On this lay my revolver, ready to

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hand. My precise examination had done me a little

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good, but I still found the remoter darkness

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of the place and its perfect stillness too stimulating

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for the imagination. The echoing of the stir

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and crackling of the fire was no sort of comfort

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to me. The shadow in the alcove at the end of

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the room began to display that undefinable quality

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of a presence. That odd suggestion of a lurking

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living thing that comes so easily in silence

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and solitude. And to reassure myself, I walked

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with a candle into it and satisfied myself that

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there was nothing tangible there. I stood that

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candle upon the floor of the alcove and left

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it in that position. By this time I was in a

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state of considerable nervous tension. although,

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to my reason, there was no adequate cause for

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my condition. My mind, however, was perfectly

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clear. I postulated, quite unreservedly, that

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nothing supernatural could happen, and to pass

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the time I began stringing some rhymes together,

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in Goldsbar fashion, concerning the original

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legend of the place. A few I spoke aloud, but

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the echoes were not pleasant. For the same reason,

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I also abandoned, after a time, a conversation

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with myself upon the impossibility of ghosts

00:17:50.339 --> 00:17:54.440
and haunting. My mind reverted to the three old

00:17:54.440 --> 00:17:57.799
and distorted people downstairs, and I tried

00:17:57.799 --> 00:18:01.140
to keep it upon that topic. The somber reds and

00:18:01.140 --> 00:18:04.480
greys of the room troubled me. Even with its

00:18:04.480 --> 00:18:08.440
seven candles, the place was merely dim. The

00:18:08.440 --> 00:18:11.619
light in the alcove flaring in a draft and the

00:18:11.619 --> 00:18:14.859
fire flickering kept the shadows and penumbra

00:18:14.859 --> 00:18:18.700
perpetually shifting and stirring in a noiseless

00:18:18.700 --> 00:18:23.140
flighty dance. Casting about for a remedy, I

00:18:23.140 --> 00:18:26.059
recalled the wax candles I had seen in the corridor

00:18:26.059 --> 00:18:30.319
and, with a slight effort, carrying a candle

00:18:30.319 --> 00:18:36.019
and leaving the door open, I walked out. and

00:18:36.019 --> 00:18:40.359
presently returned with as many as ten. These

00:18:40.359 --> 00:18:43.759
I put in the various knick -knacks of China with

00:18:43.759 --> 00:18:47.500
which the room was sparsely adorned, and lit

00:18:47.500 --> 00:18:50.759
and placed them where the shadows had lain deepest,

00:18:51.099 --> 00:18:54.940
some on the floor, some in the window recesses,

00:18:54.960 --> 00:18:58.960
arranging and rearranging them, until at last

00:18:58.960 --> 00:19:02.880
my seventeen candles were so placed that not

00:19:02.880 --> 00:19:05.799
an inch of the room but had the direct light

00:19:05.799 --> 00:19:10.059
of at least one of them. It occurred to me that

00:19:10.059 --> 00:19:13.079
when the ghost came, I could warn him not to

00:19:13.079 --> 00:19:16.960
trip over them. The room was now quite brightly

00:19:16.960 --> 00:19:20.339
illuminated. There was something very cheering

00:19:20.339 --> 00:19:23.900
and reassuring in these little silent streaming

00:19:23.900 --> 00:19:27.640
flames, and to notice their steady diminution

00:19:27.640 --> 00:19:30.910
of length offered me an occupation. and gave

00:19:30.910 --> 00:19:33.990
me a reassuring sense of the passage of time.

00:19:34.369 --> 00:19:38.230
Even with that, however, the brooding expectation

00:19:38.230 --> 00:19:41.349
of the vigil weighed heavily enough upon me.

00:19:41.890 --> 00:19:45.369
I stood watching the minute hand of my watch

00:19:45.369 --> 00:19:49.430
creep towards midnight. Then something happened

00:19:49.430 --> 00:19:53.210
in the alcove. I did not see the candle go out.

00:19:53.250 --> 00:19:56.849
I simply turned and saw that the darkness was

00:19:56.849 --> 00:20:00.369
there, as one might start. and see the unexpected

00:20:00.369 --> 00:20:04.289
presence of a stranger. The black shadow had

00:20:04.289 --> 00:20:09.849
sprung back to its place. By Jove, said I aloud,

00:20:10.130 --> 00:20:14.130
recovering from my surprise, that drafts a strong

00:20:14.130 --> 00:20:17.250
one. And taking the matchbox from the table,

00:20:17.349 --> 00:20:19.990
I walked across the room in a leisurely manner

00:20:19.990 --> 00:20:24.289
to relight the corner again. My first match would

00:20:24.289 --> 00:20:27.910
not strike, and as I succeeded with the second,

00:20:28.460 --> 00:20:30.920
Something seemed to blink on the wall before

00:20:30.920 --> 00:20:35.500
me. I turned my head involuntarily and saw that

00:20:35.500 --> 00:20:38.160
the two candles on the little table by the fireplace

00:20:38.160 --> 00:20:42.400
were extinguished. I rose at once to my feet.

00:20:43.920 --> 00:20:49.440
Odd, I said. Did I do that myself in a flash

00:20:49.440 --> 00:20:55.039
of absent -mindedness? I walked back, relit one,

00:20:55.220 --> 00:20:59.059
and as I did so, I saw the candle in the right

00:20:59.059 --> 00:21:02.500
sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right

00:21:02.500 --> 00:21:06.400
out, and almost immediately its companion followed

00:21:06.400 --> 00:21:10.500
it. The flames vanished as if the wick had been

00:21:10.500 --> 00:21:13.740
suddenly nipped between a finger and thumb, leaving

00:21:13.740 --> 00:21:17.019
the wick neither glowing nor smoking, but black.

00:21:18.119 --> 00:21:20.900
While I stood, gaping the candle at the foot

00:21:20.900 --> 00:21:24.119
of the bed, went out, and the shadows seemed

00:21:24.119 --> 00:21:28.339
to take another step toward me. This won't do,

00:21:28.599 --> 00:21:32.500
said I, and first one and then another candle

00:21:32.500 --> 00:21:37.720
on the mantel shelf followed. What's up? I cried,

00:21:37.920 --> 00:21:40.940
with a queer high note getting into my voice

00:21:40.940 --> 00:21:44.940
somehow. At that, the candle on the corner of

00:21:44.940 --> 00:21:48.220
the wardrobe went out, and the one I had relit

00:21:48.220 --> 00:21:53.619
in the alcove followed. Steady on, I said. Those

00:21:53.619 --> 00:21:57.460
candles are wanted. speaking with a half -hysterical

00:21:57.460 --> 00:22:00.220
facetiousness and scratching away at a match

00:22:00.220 --> 00:22:04.680
the while. For the mantle candlesticks. My hands

00:22:04.680 --> 00:22:08.539
trembled so much that twice I missed the rough

00:22:08.539 --> 00:22:12.039
paper of the matchbox. As the mantle emerged

00:22:12.039 --> 00:22:15.819
from darkness again, two candles in the remoter

00:22:15.819 --> 00:22:19.019
end of the room were eclipsed. But with the same

00:22:19.019 --> 00:22:22.339
match, I also relit the larger mirror candles

00:22:22.339 --> 00:22:26.210
and those on the floor near the doorway. so that

00:22:26.210 --> 00:22:29.450
for the moment I seemed to gain on the extinctions.

00:22:30.029 --> 00:22:34.329
But then, in a noiseless volley, there vanished

00:22:34.329 --> 00:22:37.329
four lights at once in different corners of the

00:22:37.329 --> 00:22:40.250
room, and I struck another match in quivering

00:22:40.250 --> 00:22:43.849
haste and stood hesitating whither to take it.

00:22:44.809 --> 00:22:48.849
As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed

00:22:48.849 --> 00:22:52.289
to sweep out the two candles on the table. With

00:22:52.289 --> 00:22:56.130
a cry of terror, I dashed at the alcove, then

00:22:56.130 --> 00:23:00.509
into the corner, and then into the window, relighting

00:23:00.509 --> 00:23:03.250
three as two more vanished by the fireplace.

00:23:03.730 --> 00:23:07.549
And then, perceiving a better way, I dropped

00:23:07.549 --> 00:23:10.690
matches on the iron -bound deed box in the corner

00:23:10.690 --> 00:23:15.309
and caught up the bedroom candlestick. With this,

00:23:15.329 --> 00:23:18.910
I avoided the delay of striking matches, but

00:23:18.910 --> 00:23:21.309
for all that the steady process of extinction

00:23:21.309 --> 00:23:24.910
went on. And the shadows I feared and fought

00:23:24.910 --> 00:23:30.029
against returned, and crept in upon me. First

00:23:30.029 --> 00:23:34.109
a step gained on this side of me, then on that.

00:23:34.410 --> 00:23:38.029
I was now almost frantic with the horror of the

00:23:38.029 --> 00:23:41.269
coming darkness, and my self -possession deserted

00:23:41.269 --> 00:23:46.130
me. I leaped, panting from candle to candle,

00:23:46.210 --> 00:23:49.470
in a vain struggle against that remorseless advance.

00:23:50.670 --> 00:23:53.509
I bruised myself in the thigh against the table.

00:23:53.789 --> 00:23:57.829
I sent a chair headlong. I stumbled and fell

00:23:57.829 --> 00:24:00.329
and whisked the cloth from the table in my fall.

00:24:00.950 --> 00:24:04.430
My candle rolled away from me and I snatched

00:24:04.430 --> 00:24:09.269
another as I rose. Abruptly, this was blown out

00:24:09.269 --> 00:24:12.269
as I swung it off the table by the wind of my

00:24:12.269 --> 00:24:15.930
sudden movement and immediately the two remaining

00:24:15.930 --> 00:24:20.059
candles followed. But there was light still in

00:24:20.059 --> 00:24:23.559
the room. A red light that streamed across the

00:24:23.559 --> 00:24:28.180
ceiling and staved off the shadows from me. The

00:24:28.180 --> 00:24:32.859
fire. Of course, I could still thrust my candle

00:24:32.859 --> 00:24:36.940
between the bars and relight it. I turned to

00:24:36.940 --> 00:24:39.519
where the flames were still dancing between the

00:24:39.519 --> 00:24:43.339
glowing coals and splashing red reflections upon

00:24:43.339 --> 00:24:47.339
the furniture. Made two steps toward the grate.

00:24:48.000 --> 00:24:51.559
and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished,

00:24:51.779 --> 00:24:55.339
the glow vanished, the reflections rushed together

00:24:55.339 --> 00:24:58.980
and disappeared, and as I thrust the candle between

00:24:58.980 --> 00:25:03.559
the bars, darkness closed upon me like the shutting

00:25:03.559 --> 00:25:07.740
of an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace,

00:25:08.039 --> 00:25:12.440
sealed my vision, and crushed the last vestiges

00:25:12.440 --> 00:25:16.119
of self -possession from my brain. and it was

00:25:16.119 --> 00:25:20.160
not only palpable darkness, but intolerable terror.

00:25:20.880 --> 00:25:24.880
The candle fell from my hands. I flung out my

00:25:24.880 --> 00:25:27.920
arms in a vain effort to thrust that ponderous

00:25:27.920 --> 00:25:31.079
blackness away from me, and lifting up my voice,

00:25:31.220 --> 00:25:36.940
screamed with all my might, once, twice, thrice.

00:25:37.380 --> 00:25:40.559
Then I think I must have staggered to my feet.

00:25:41.099 --> 00:25:44.640
I know I thought suddenly of the moonlit corridor,

00:25:45.440 --> 00:25:48.480
and with my head bowed and my arms over my face,

00:25:48.619 --> 00:25:52.700
made a stumbling run for the door. But I had

00:25:52.700 --> 00:25:55.660
forgotten the exact position of the door, and

00:25:55.660 --> 00:25:58.220
I struck myself heavily against the corner of

00:25:58.220 --> 00:26:03.019
the bed. I staggered back, turned, and was either

00:26:03.019 --> 00:26:06.839
struck or struck myself against some other bulky

00:26:06.839 --> 00:26:11.079
furnishing. I have a vague memory of battering

00:26:11.079 --> 00:26:14.559
myself thus to and fro in the darkness, of a

00:26:14.559 --> 00:26:18.140
heavy blow at last upon my forehead, of a horrible

00:26:18.140 --> 00:26:21.940
sensation of falling that lasted an age, of my

00:26:21.940 --> 00:26:25.279
last frantic effort to keep my footing, and then

00:26:25.279 --> 00:26:29.579
I remember no more. I opened my eyes in daylight,

00:26:29.859 --> 00:26:33.460
my head was roughly bandaged, and the man with

00:26:33.460 --> 00:26:37.200
the withered hand was watching my face. I looked

00:26:37.200 --> 00:26:39.740
about me, trying to remember what had happened,

00:26:39.920 --> 00:26:44.819
and for a space I could not recollect. I rolled

00:26:44.819 --> 00:26:47.279
my eyes into the corner and saw the old woman,

00:26:47.380 --> 00:26:51.440
no longer abstracted, no longer terrible, pouring

00:26:51.440 --> 00:26:53.619
out some drops of medicine from a little blue

00:26:53.619 --> 00:26:59.720
phial into a glass. Where am I? I said. I seem

00:26:59.720 --> 00:27:03.660
to remember you, and yet I cannot remember who

00:27:03.660 --> 00:27:08.799
you are. They told me then, and I heard of the

00:27:08.799 --> 00:27:13.799
haunted red room as one who hears a tale. We

00:27:13.799 --> 00:27:18.099
found you at dawn, said he, and there was blood

00:27:18.099 --> 00:27:22.720
on your forehead and lips. I wondered that I

00:27:22.720 --> 00:27:26.019
had ever disliked him. The three of them in the

00:27:26.019 --> 00:27:28.839
daylight seemed commonplace old folk enough.

00:27:29.299 --> 00:27:32.460
The man with the green shade had his head bent

00:27:32.460 --> 00:27:37.759
as one who sleeps. It was very slowly I recovered

00:27:37.759 --> 00:27:43.079
the memory of my experience. You believe now,

00:27:43.339 --> 00:27:47.259
said the old man with the withered hand, that

00:27:47.259 --> 00:27:52.619
the room is haunted. He spoke no longer as one

00:27:52.619 --> 00:27:56.799
who greets an intruder, but as one who condoles

00:27:56.799 --> 00:28:03.380
with a friend. Yes, said I, the room is haunted.

00:28:04.559 --> 00:28:08.019
And you have seen it, and we who have been here

00:28:08.019 --> 00:28:11.759
all our lives have never set eyes upon it. Because

00:28:11.759 --> 00:28:15.779
we have never dared. Tell us, is it truly the

00:28:15.779 --> 00:28:23.220
old earl who... No, said I. It is not. I told

00:28:23.220 --> 00:28:26.940
you so, said the old lady with the glass in her

00:28:26.940 --> 00:28:30.839
hand. It is his poor young countess who was frightened.

00:28:31.740 --> 00:28:35.740
It is not, I said. There is neither ghost of

00:28:35.740 --> 00:28:39.349
earl nor ghost of countess in that room. There

00:28:39.349 --> 00:28:43.289
is no ghost there at all, but worse, far worse,

00:28:43.450 --> 00:28:49.910
something impalpable. Well, they said. The worst

00:28:49.910 --> 00:28:52.430
of all the things that haunt poor mortal men,

00:28:52.609 --> 00:28:57.450
said I, and that is, in all its nakedness, fear.

00:28:57.869 --> 00:29:01.170
Fear that will not have light nor sound, that

00:29:01.170 --> 00:29:04.410
will not bear with reason, that deafens and darkens

00:29:04.410 --> 00:29:08.269
and overwhelms. It followed me through the corridor.

00:29:09.039 --> 00:29:13.759
It fought against me in the room. I stopped abruptly.

00:29:14.140 --> 00:29:18.019
There was an interval of silence. My hand went

00:29:18.019 --> 00:29:22.759
up to my bandages. The candles went out one after

00:29:22.759 --> 00:29:27.440
another and I fled. Then the man with the shade

00:29:27.440 --> 00:29:30.980
lifted his face sideways to see me and spoke.

00:29:32.119 --> 00:29:37.910
That is it, said he. I knew that was it. a power

00:29:37.910 --> 00:29:41.289
of darkness, to put such a curse upon a home.

00:29:41.869 --> 00:29:46.089
It lurks there always. You can feel it even in

00:29:46.089 --> 00:29:49.210
the daytime, even of a bright summer's day, in

00:29:49.210 --> 00:29:51.970
the hangings, in the curtains, keeping behind

00:29:51.970 --> 00:29:55.549
you however you face about. In the dusk it creeps

00:29:55.549 --> 00:29:58.589
in the corridor and follows you so that you dare

00:29:58.589 --> 00:30:03.250
not turn. It is even as you say. Fear itself

00:30:03.250 --> 00:30:08.680
is in that room. Black fear. And there it will

00:30:08.680 --> 00:30:15.119
be, so long as this house of sin endures. And

00:30:15.119 --> 00:30:18.700
that was The Red Room. H .G. Wells wrote this

00:30:18.700 --> 00:30:24.220
in 1894. 130 years later, the argument hasn't

00:30:24.220 --> 00:30:28.299
changed. You can bring a gun, a matchbox, and

00:30:28.299 --> 00:30:31.720
17 candles. And fear will still work its way

00:30:31.720 --> 00:30:34.920
through the dark to find you. It knows exactly

00:30:34.920 --> 00:30:38.109
where you keep the lights. If you enjoyed tonight's

00:30:38.109 --> 00:30:41.349
story, subscribe for more, leave a like, and

00:30:41.349 --> 00:30:43.390
share it with someone who appreciates the darker

00:30:43.390 --> 00:30:47.470
things. New classic horrors from macabre miscellanea

00:30:47.470 --> 00:30:51.789
arrive every week. Until next time. Remember,

00:30:52.069 --> 00:30:55.250
the room isn't haunted. You brought the haunting

00:30:55.250 --> 00:30:55.670
with you.
