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James, M. R. (Montague Rhodes), 1862-1936

"Ghost Stories of an Antiquary"

'
'Just so, Gregory, just so. I can think of nothing else so--_likely_, I
should say, if such a word had a place anywhere in my story. I think it
must have been the Abbot.... Well, I haven't much more to tell you. I
spent a miserable night, Brown sitting up with me. Next day I was no
better; unable to get up; no doctor to be had; and if one had been
available, I doubt if he could have done much for me. I made Brown write
off to you, and spent a second terrible night. And, Gregory, of this I am
sure, and I think it affected me more than the first shock, for it lasted
longer: there was someone or something on the watch outside my door the
whole night. I almost fancy there were two. It wasn't only the faint
noises I heard from time to time all through the dark hours, but there
was the smell--the hideous smell of mould. Every rag I had had on me on
that first evening I had stripped off and made Brown take it away. I
believe he stuffed the things into the stove in his room; and yet the
smell was there, as intense as it had been in the well; and, what is
more, it came from outside the door. But with the first glimmer of dawn
it faded out, and the sounds ceased, too; and that convinced me that the
thing or things were creatures of darkness, and could not stand the
daylight; and so I was sure that if anyone could put back the stone, it
or they would be powerless until someone else took it away again.


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