Carnacki, The Ghost Finder

Carnacki, The Ghost Finder, by
William Hope

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Title: Carnacki, The Ghost Finder
Author: William Hope Hodgson
Release Date: January 25, 2004 [eBook #10832]
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
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CARNACKI, THE GHOST FINDER

By William Hope Hodgson
1910, 1912

No. 1
THE GATEWAY OF THE MONSTER
In response to Carnacki's usual card of invitation to have dinner and
listen to a story, I arrived promptly at 427, Cheyne Walk, to find the
three others who were always invited to these happy little times, there
before me. Five minutes later, Carnacki, Arkright, Jessop, Taylor, and I
were all engaged in the "pleasant occupation" of dining.
"You've not been long away, this time," I remarked, as I finished my
soup; forgetting momentarily Carnacki's dislike of being asked even to
skirt the borders of his story until such time as he was ready. Then he
would not stint words.
"That's all," he replied, with brevity; and I changed the subject,
remarking that I had been buying a new gun, to which piece of news he
gave an intelligent nod, and a smile which I think showed a genuinely
good-humored appreciation of my intentional changing of the
conversation.
Later, when dinner was finished, Carnacki snugged himself
comfortably down in his big chair, along with his pipe, and began his
story, with very little circumlocution:--
"As Dodgson was remarking just now, I've only been away a short time,
and for a very good reason too--I've only been away a short distance.
The exact locality I am afraid I must not tell you; but it is less than
twenty miles from here; though, except for changing a name, that won't
spoil the story. And it is a story too! One of the most extraordinary
things ever I have run against.
"I received a letter a fortnight ago from a man I must call Anderson,

asking for an appointment. I arranged a time, and when he came, I
found that he wished me to investigate and see whether I could not
clear up a long-standing and well--too well--authenticated case of what
he termed 'haunting.' He gave me very full particulars, and, finally, as
the case seemed to present something unique, I decided to take it up.
"Two days later, I drove to the house late in the afternoon. I found it a
very old place, standing quite alone in its own grounds. Anderson had
left a letter with the butler, I found, pleading excuses for his absence,
and leaving the whole house at my disposal for my investigations. The
butler evidently knew the object of my visit, and I questioned him
pretty thoroughly during dinner, which I had in rather lonely state. He
is an old and privileged servant, and had the history of the Grey Room
exact in detail. From him I learned more particulars regarding two
things that Anderson had mentioned in but a casual manner. The first
was that the door of the Grey Room would be heard in the dead of
night to open, and slam heavily, and this even though the butler knew it
was locked, and the key on the bunch in his pantry. The second was
that the bedclothes would always be found torn off the bed, and hurled
in a heap into a corner.
"But it was the door slamming that chiefly bothered the old butler.
Many and many a time, he told me, had he lain awake and just got
shivering with fright, listening; for sometimes the door would be
slammed time after time--thud! thud! thud!--so that sleep was
impossible.
"From Anderson, I knew already that the room had a history extending
back over a hundred and fifty years. Three people had been strangled in
it--an ancestor of his and his wife and child. This is authentic, as I had
taken very great pains to discover; so that you can imagine it was with
a feeling I had a striking case to investigate that I went upstairs after
dinner to have a look at the Grey Room.
"Peter, the old butler, was in rather a state about my going, and assured
me with much solemnity that in all the twenty years of his service, no
one had ever entered that room after nightfall. He begged me, in quite a
fatherly way,