<h2><SPAN name="IV" id="IV" ></SPAN>IV</h2>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image7" id="image7"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image7ha.jpg"><ANTIMG src="images/image7ha.jpg" width-obs="55%" alt=""HE MET WITH A SEVERE FALL"" title=""HE MET WITH A SEVERE FALL"" /></SPAN> <p class="caption">"HE MET WITH A SEVERE FALL"</p> </div>
<p>The next day the ghost was very weak and tired. The terrible excitement
of the last four weeks was beginning to have its effect. His nerves were
completely shattered, and he started at the slightest noise. For five
days he kept his room, and at last made up his mind to give up the point
of the blood-stain on the library floor. If the Otis family did not want
it, they clearly did not deserve it. They were evidently people on a
low, material plane of existence, and quite incapable of appreciating
the symbolic value of sensuous phenomena. The question of phantasmic
apparitions, and the development of astral bodies, was of course quite a
different matter, and really not under his control. It was his solemn
duty to appear in the corridor once a week, and to gibber from the large
oriel window on the first and third Wednesdays in every month, and he
did not see how he could honourably escape from his obligations. It is
quite true that his life had been very evil, but, upon the other hand,
he was most conscientious in all things connected with the supernatural.
For the next three Saturdays, accordingly, he traversed the corridor as
usual between midnight and three o'clock, taking every possible
precaution against being either heard or seen. He removed his boots,
trod as lightly as possible on the old worm-eaten boards, wore a large
black velvet cloak, and was careful to use the Rising Sun Lubricator for
oiling his chains. I am bound to acknowledge that it was with a good
deal of difficulty that he brought himself to adopt this last mode of
protection. However, one night, while the family were at dinner, he
slipped into Mr. Otis's bedroom and carried off the bottle. He felt a
little humiliated at first, but afterwards was sensible enough to see
that there was a great deal to be said for the invention, and, to a
certain degree, it served his purpose. Still in spite of everything he
was not left unmolested. Strings were continually being stretched across
the corridor, over which he tripped in the dark, and on one occasion,
while dressed for the part of "Black Isaac, or the Huntsman of Hogley
Woods," he met with a severe fall, through treading on a butter-slide,
which the twins had constructed from the entrance of the Tapestry
Chamber to the top of the oak staircase. This last insult so enraged
him, that he resolved to make one final effort to assert his dignity and
social position, and determined to visit the insolent young Etonians the
next night in his celebrated character of "Reckless Rupert, or the
Headless Earl."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image8" id="image8"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image8h.jpg"> <ANTIMG src="images/image8h.jpg" width-obs="60%" alt=""A HEAVY JUG OF WATER FELL RIGHT DOWN ON HIM."" title=""A HEAVY JUG OF WATER FELL RIGHT DOWN ON HIM."" /></SPAN> <p class="caption">"A HEAVY JUG OF WATER FELL RIGHT DOWN ON HIM."</p> </div>
<p>He had not appeared in this disguise for more than seventy years; in
fact, not since he had so frightened pretty Lady Barbara Modish by means
of it, that she suddenly broke off her engagement with the present Lord
Canterville's grandfather, and ran away to Gretna Green with handsome
Jack Castletown, declaring that nothing in the world would induce her to
marry into a family that allowed such a horrible phantom to walk up and
down the terrace at twilight. Poor Jack was afterwards shot in a duel by
Lord Canterville on Wandsworth Common, and Lady Barbara died of a broken
heart at Tunbridge Wells before the year was out, so, in every way, it
had been a great success. It was, however an extremely difficult
"make-up," if I may use such a theatrical expression in connection with
one of the greatest mysteries of the supernatural, or, to employ a more
scientific term, the higher-natural world, and it took him fully three
hours to make his preparations. At last everything was ready, and he was
very pleased with his appearance. The big leather riding-boots that went
with the dress were just a little too large for him, and he could only
find one of the two horse-pistols, but, on the whole, he was quite
satisfied, and at a quarter-past one he glided out of the wainscoting
and crept down the corridor. On reaching the room occupied by the twins,
which I should mention was called the Blue Bed Chamber, on account of
the colour of its hangings, he found the door just ajar. Wishing to make
an effective entrance, he flung it wide open, when a heavy jug of water
fell right down on him, wetting him to the skin, and just missing his
left shoulder by a couple of inches. At the same moment he heard stifled
shrieks of laughter proceeding from the four-post bed. The shock to his
nervous system was so great that he fled back to his room as hard as he
could go, and the next day he was laid up with a severe cold. The only
thing that at all consoled him in the whole affair was the fact that he
had not brought his head with him, for, had he done so, the consequences
might have been very serious.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image9" id="image9"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image9h.jpg"> <ANTIMG src="images/image9h.jpg" width-obs="55%" alt=""MAKING SATIRICAL REMARKS ON THE PHOTOGRAPHS"" title=""MAKING SATIRICAL REMARKS ON THE PHOTOGRAPHS"" /></SPAN> <p class="caption">"MAKING SATIRICAL REMARKS ON THE PHOTOGRAPHS"</p> </div>
<p>He now gave up all hope of ever frightening this rude American family,
and contented himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in
list slippers, with a thick red muffler round his throat for fear of
draughts, and a small arquebuse, in case he should be attacked by the
twins. The final blow he received occurred on the 19th of September. He
had gone down-stairs to the great entrance-hall, feeling sure that
there, at any rate, he would be quite unmolested, and was amusing
himself by making satirical remarks on the large Saroni photographs of
the United States Minister and his wife which had now taken the place of
the Canterville family pictures. He was simply but neatly clad in a long
shroud, spotted with churchyard mould, had tied up his jaw with a strip
of yellow linen, and carried a small lantern and a sexton's spade. In
fact, he was dressed for the character of "Jonas the Graveless, or the
Corpse-Snatcher of Chertsey Barn," one of his most remarkable
impersonations, and one which the Cantervilles had every reason to
remember, as it was the real origin of their quarrel with their
neighbour, Lord Rufford. It was about a quarter-past two o'clock in
the morning, and, as far as he could ascertain, no one was stirring. As
he was strolling towards the library, however, to see if there were any
traces left of the blood-stain, suddenly there leaped out on him from a
dark corner two figures, who waved their arms wildly above their heads,
and shrieked out "BOO!" in his ear.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image10" id="image10"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image10h.jpg"> <ANTIMG src="images/image10h.jpg" width-obs="70%" alt=""SUDDENLY THERE LEAPED OUT TWO FIGURES."" title=""SUDDENLY THERE LEAPED OUT TWO FIGURES."" /></SPAN> <p class="caption">"SUDDENLY THERE LEAPED OUT TWO FIGURES."</p> </div>
<p>Seized with a panic, which, under the circumstances, was only natural,
he rushed for the staircase, but found Washington Otis waiting for him
there with the big garden-syringe, and being thus hemmed in by his
enemies on every side, and driven almost to bay, he vanished into the
great iron stove, which, fortunately for him, was not lit, and had to
make his way home through the flues and chimneys, arriving at his own
room in a terrible state of dirt, disorder, and despair.</p>
<p>After this he was not seen again on any nocturnal expedition. The twins
lay in wait for him on several occasions, and strewed the passages with
nutshells every night to the great annoyance of their parents and the
servants, but it was of no avail. It was quite evident that his feelings
were so wounded that he would not appear. Mr. Otis consequently resumed
his great work on the history of the Democratic Party, on which he had
been engaged for some years; Mrs. Otis organized a wonderful
clam-bake, which amazed the whole county; the boys took to lacrosse
euchre, poker, and other American national games, and Virginia rode
about the lanes on her pony, accompanied by the young Duke of Cheshire,
who had come to spend the last week of his holidays at Canterville
Chase. It was generally assumed that the ghost had gone away, and, in
fact, Mr. Otis wrote a letter to that effect to Lord Canterville, who,
in reply, expressed his great pleasure at the news, and sent his best
congratulations to the Minister's worthy wife.</p>
<p>The Otises, however, were deceived, for the ghost was still in the
house, and though now almost an invalid, was by no means ready to let
matters rest, particularly as he heard that among the guests was the
young Duke of Cheshire, whose grand-uncle, Lord Francis Stilton, had
once bet a hundred guineas with Colonel Carbury that he would play dice
with the Canterville ghost, and was found the next morning lying on the
floor of the card-room in such a helpless paralytic state that, though
he lived on to a great age, he was never able to say anything again but
"Double Sixes." The story was well known at the time, though, of course,
out of respect to the feelings of the two noble families, every attempt
was made to hush it up, and a full account of all the circumstances
connected with it will be found in the third volume of Lord Tattle's
<i>Recollections of the Prince Regent and his Friends</i>. The ghost, then,
was naturally very anxious to show that he had not lost his influence
over the Stiltons, with whom, indeed, he was distantly connected, his
own first cousin having been married <i>en secondes noces</i> to the Sieur de
Bulkeley, from whom, as every one knows, the Dukes of Cheshire are
lineally descended. Accordingly, he made arrangements for appearing to
Virginia's little lover in his celebrated impersonation of "The Vampire
Monk, or the Bloodless Benedictine," a performance so horrible that when
old Lady Startup saw it, which she did on one fatal New Year's Eve, in
the year 1764, she went off into the most piercing shrieks, which
culminated in violent apoplexy, and died in three days, after
disinheriting the Cantervilles, who were her nearest relations, and
leaving all her money to her London apothecary. At the last moment,
however, his terror of the twins prevented his leaving his room, and the
little Duke slept in peace under the great feathered canopy in the Royal
Bedchamber, and dreamed of Virginia.</p>
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