September 3, 2025 • 23 mins
What is it about that old house down the road that unnerves Pierre and his wife, Annette? The owners, Eric and Julia, appear to be a lovely couple, yet an unsettling aura of malevolence surrounds them. While Eric seems to radiate a supernatural darkness wherever he goes, Julia bears mysterious injuries that hint at a deeper horror. Are Erics sinister vibes the true source of her suffering, or is there something even more terrifying lurking within the walls of their home? (Summary by Ben Tucker)
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter four of Sinister House by Leland Hall. The LibriVox
recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker,
Chapter four. All this happened early in September. The weather
had been uncertain from the middle of August, and the
day after Eric came home was furious with rain and wind.
(00:21):
We hadn't a very cheerful breakfast, Annette and I and
the children. Felicia had had nightmares too, and had let
the eggs burn. But I remember saying to my wife
when I got home that night, very wet and tired,
that it was sure to blow and rain itself out
at last, in time for my vacation, which I always
took in the fall, and which was due to begin
the next week. That's just what happened. After the fourteenth
(00:44):
or fifteenth of September, we had a three weeks spell
of the loveliest weather you can imagine. I always have
been lucky on my vacation. But it wasn't the spell
of weather, but the visit of Giles to our house
and what he brought with him or stirred up that
have made that epoch of vivid memory to me, one
which has stayed just behind my every day since for
nearly four years. At the time, none of that was
(01:05):
so real to me as my enjoyment of the mild
fall days, sowing the lawn, setting out bulbs. Anette and
I crocuses, daffodils, squoils. She can tell you what they were,
though I think it was Giles that set us to
doing it, tinkering with the ford and polishing it, days
of golf and picnics with the children up the river.
It may be temperamental with me, and the word makes
(01:27):
me laugh, but I've always found joy just as real
as sorrow, more real. Indeed, everything bad that comes to
me seems like an unpleasant dream from which I'm always
looking to wake up, whereas when I'm having a good time,
I don't want to go to bed at all. Half
our sorrows come from an overbalanced mind, and the other
half are aggravated by too much thinking on one's self.
(01:50):
I went on having a sensible, happy time while two
persons whom I knew intimately were being stretched tighter and
tighter on a rack. And not until I was caught
in the infernal thing myself had I the slightest suspicion
of what was going on. Of course I heard the gossip,
but I didn't heed it, And in our nightly counsels
I scolded a net for listening to it and favoring it.
(02:13):
As a matter of fact, she countenanced no more of
it than appeased her pique at Julia. That was very slight,
after all, and pardonable. If you confess with proper humility
that you don't see something, and the one to whom
you confess it replies with no, I suppose not in
a tone you take to mean poor thing. You ought
to see it, but you haven't since enough, or you
aren't refined enough, or you aren't made of the right stuff. Well,
(02:36):
it puts you on the look out for the beam
in the other fellow's eye, no matter how much you
may admire him. The trouble was, we both see now
that Annette misunderstood Julia's meaning entirely. The little remark, if
it was anything but a blind rang with envy rather
than with contempt. I used to laugh to see Annette
trying to pump her cousin for the latest dope on
(02:58):
the arts. Olivinnette's family, except Giles, were good sensible people
like herself, and Giles always remained a freak to them,
some one for whom an apology or at least an
explanation was necessary. I dare say no one of them,
save my wife, ever thought to profit by his abilities
and take a little schooling at his hands. But she
(03:20):
used in those days to ask him questions as if
she were humoring him, and entirely nonchalantly, And she quite
fooled me. Not until I began to hear queer words
of his lingo, such as composition values chiaroscura fall from
her own serene lips did I realize what she was
up to. And he he must have known it too,
(03:40):
and if he gave out anything at all to her,
it must have been with utmost carelessness. He didn't care
a snap of his finger about our sense of beauty.
He knew us for just what we were, pitied us
for that, liked us for that, and once confessed to
me envied us for that, which last I take to
mean that no one would be an artist if he
could help it. But i'm us say, Giles is a
(04:01):
fine fellow and a gentleman. He has since died fighting
for France, which he was the first to make me
understand would be fighting for the soul of the world.
As for the gossip, I had rather pass over it.
But since I am going to plunge into the heart
of the affair and must perforce confine myself to what
either Annette or I actually saw or experienced, I'd better
(04:21):
tell you some of the many yarns so that you
will have an idea of how the strange drama impressed
the circle of Foresby's best. So far as I can remember,
up to the time of Giles long stay with us,
the only thing Foresby had against Eric and Julia, and gossip,
you know, is always what you have against the other fellow,
was the fact that they live in that gloomy old house.
(04:43):
Julia was exceedingly charming. Eric was, by contrast, reserved. I've
already told you that the house was uncanny to most
of us. Added to their choice of such a dwelling,
their dress, their independent manners, and their way of speech
were enough to brand them. Is different To be different
is I have observed invariably blameworthy, And in this case
(05:04):
Eric naturally was held to blame. There was something queer
about him. I mean, that was the gossip. It never
got going very strong to tell the truth, I think
most of us stood a little in awe of him.
But during the six weeks that followed his dramatic home coming,
it so happened that he was now at home, now
off on another trip, and Forsby noticed not only that
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in the periods of his being at home, Julia was
pale and depressed and didn't appear often on the links
of the Caraway Club in Stanton, but that when he
was away she brightened up in appearance and manners, and
played golf almost every day. Well, Giles was with her
a very great deal during the days and sometimes weeks
that Eric was away. They used to play golf together
(05:48):
and to take long walks together, and he was almost
every afternoon at her house for tea, whether Eric was
at home or not. It wasn't surprising that the ladies
began to whisper among themselves, nor was it surprising that
they came to the decision that Giles was in love
with Julia, that Julia glad of Giles's company, that everything
wasn't peaches and cream in the Greer household, but let
(06:09):
it go. The saddest part of it was that Eric
at one time probably heard some of it. He was
so sensitive that it didn't take much of a hint
to make him worry. Yet, as I have already told you,
he could never have doubted Julia's love for him. Now,
to go back to my story, it must have been
a Friday night that Eric came home so unexpectedly from
his first trip away. Though he told me that he
(06:31):
had only thirty six hours to pass at home with
his wife, he did not leave until Monday morning. This
I remember because early Monday morning I telephoned Julia. I
was going down to the train station from New York
to meet Giles, from whom we had received a telegram
the night before. I wanted to see Julia, and I
thought that perhaps I might give her a lift along
the road somewhere, or take some letter down to the
(06:51):
station for her. Besides, the Ford was working wonderfully well
that morning. You understand, we had seen nothing of Eric
or Julia since that Friday night. They were at that
time so wrapped up in each other that we should
not have thought of breaking in on them. To my surprise,
Eric answered the telephone, and it was he who was
glad of a chance to be taken to the station.
There was a train down to New York just before
(07:12):
Giles's train up from there was due. Eric was leaving
on that so I hustled over for him in the ford.
It was a wonderful morning. The shadows under the hemlocks
by Eric's house were the only dark things I saw,
and I always felt, rather than saw them. Eric was
waiting for me on the steps to the front door,
with his bags at his feet. Julia was standing beside him,
(07:33):
heavily veiled. Will you be good enough to take me
along too? She asked, in an unusually low voice. I
want to go with Eric as far as I can,
and Eric added, with great tenderness, I want her to
have a lot of this sweet fresh air. Then, for
(07:53):
Heaven's sake, take off that thick veil. Julia I cried,
it's a gorgeous day. Don't shut it out. There's no dust,
the roads are still wet. Do my dear Eric urged,
No one will see that mark. All the black and
blue spots in the world wouldn't make any difference to
me or to any one. She stood beside him. I
was going to say, trembling. I never saw Julia tremble
(08:15):
while she had strength enough to stand on her feet.
But there was something about her that morning suggestive of
extreme weakness, and I had a feeling of uncertainty about
her health. Have you had a fall, Julia, I asked anxiously.
The silly girl walked in her sleep last night, Eric explained,
and bumped her cheek in the way of a joke.
(08:36):
I shouted, oh you, lady macbeth. I had a moment's
pride of my knowledge of Shakespeare. But Julia put her
hand up in protest. Don't say that, She cried, I've
done nothing, nothing I can think of. I could see
that I had upset her, all right, Julia, I said,
I'll take your word for it, only please take off
that funeral crape and enjoy the morning sunshine. There's nothing
(08:59):
better than cool for fresh air for the black and
blue spots. That was a fatuous remark, but it pleased Eric.
We could not persuade Julia to lift her veil. However,
in her simple gray frock, she looked like a girl,
but for the wretched black drapery about her head, a
device which in my eyes always gives women the appearance
of victims going to the block to have their heads
cut off. Not one word did either of them say
(09:21):
too or for me? As I drove them through flat
foresby to the station that morning, but I heard their low,
affectionate voices all the way. That was a pleasant sound,
and together with the golden September weather dearly morning sun
in the clean washed air, drove from my mind the
thought it had harbored for a moment that this Julia
was not the merry Julia of our little Friday night dinner.
(09:43):
I remember a shock at the station, however, they were
greatly upset at parting, much as they controlled themselves, and
I left them standing on the platform and stepped to
my car just alongside. As the train came in, she
threw up her veil to take his kiss, and then
I caught a glimpse of her face. Anguish at parting
might have taken the blood from her cheeks. But when
after the train had pulled out of the station, she
(10:05):
came towards me, her veil still lifted, I saw she
was haggard as well as pale. Tears were in her eyes.
Just a step or two she appeared uncertain in her movement,
and then she set her lips and came forward staunchly.
She ignored the hand I offered to help her into
the car, and without even looking at me, stepped in
and took her seat. Calmly. I saw the mark high
(10:27):
on the right cheek bone, the discoloration spreading up under
the outer corner of the eye. She had forgotten about
her veils being lifted. Indeed, I now know that she
wore it to hide her face from Eric. Only up
to the final scene, it remained her greatest care to
conceal from Eric as far as she could the signs
of her suffering, the nature of which she had determined
(10:49):
he must not know. After a while, she blew her
nose a little, coughed, and then turned her moist gray
eyes to meet my too anxious Look. How foolish I
am to love him, so she said, smiling a little.
In the few minutes we had to wait for Giles's train,
we said nothing. She was completing the mastery over herself.
From time to time I stole a glance at her sweet,
(11:10):
determined little face. After her tears had ceased to flow,
she sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap,
and devoted herself more and more to her own thoughts,
no detail of which was recorded on the sensitive white
mask of her face. Under her breast and throat. I
saw waves of emotion rise and fall, but her firm
lips were locked against the force of them. It was
(11:31):
a relief to hear Giles's train come rumbling into the
station we were waiting on the inbound side. After the
train had pulled out, I saw Giles on the other
platform across the tracks. He had a couple of heavy
bags at his feet, and he was looking irascibly up
and down and all around, shouting porter at men on
our side of the rails, pointing his cane at them,
(11:52):
behaving as he usually behaves, as if the whole world
were reprehensibly indifferent to him, and he wouldn't put up
with it much longer. But I really envied in Giles
was not his ability as an artist, or his money,
or his swagger English clothes, but his contemptuous indifference to
making a scene. The two or three huskies on our
side of the station merely gave him the once over
(12:13):
and went on about their business. Oh, my beloved America,
have we not much to learn about the treatment of artists?
But believe me, I was tickled just the same. Of course,
it was up to me to go get his bags.
He could not be expected to carry them himself, So
I ran down through the tunnel under the tracks up
to cousin. Giles took his bags heavy brutes, one in
(12:33):
each hand, and started back again. And he followed me,
roaring all the way about this damn deserted place. I
knew I could have asked him what the blank he
came for, but it was never any satisfaction to come
back at Giles might as well ask Old Faithful what
he spouts for, or Vesuvius why she smokes. He was
a sort of short, thick set volcano himself. He had
(12:56):
a full face, not exactly sallow, but brownish, with rather
protruding yellow brown eyes, tremendously animated, a ludicrously small nose,
and nervous full lips, not a bit concealed by his
scant mustache, which was yellowish. Also, the line of his
jaw and chin was overlaid with flesh and muscle, and
he had the neck of a bull. Though he wasn't
what you'd call a beefy man, he was, I know,
(13:19):
tremendously intelligent, intolerant, impatient, and more nervous than any lean
man I've ever known. He was so full of energy
that I often wondered if he ever slept at all.
Funny what things come back to me. I do remember
one night I heard him snoring when there was a
horror stalking through the house. To many of us, he
seemed all fired important, and that's what he was, I
(13:41):
now believe, to his country and to the world. As
we approached the ford that morning and he saw that
there was a woman in it, he all but balked.
Probably he had had no sleep the night before, for
he had come from somewhere down in Maine, and the
thought of having to ride so early in the morning
with a commonplace woman gave his nerves another twist of
the screw. But I said, come on now, Giles, you've
(14:02):
got to be civil on such a fine morning. Besides,
it's missus Greer. Greer, Greer, he roared, making me hot
all over. I don't know any Greers. Why the devil
should I be civil to missus Greer? Because I answered,
in a low but angry voice. She's a damn fine woman,
whether you know her or not, and she isn't very well. Huh,
(14:24):
So you're going to give me a sick one on
this fine morning. Are you damned if I won't walk?
We didn't often damn ourselves and each other so freely,
and I was mortified at the thought that Julia might
have heard. By the way, I have never heard Eric
use an oath of any kind, But Julia was probably
too much absorbed in her own thoughts to hear us.
She started when I spoke to her, Julia, I said,
(14:46):
as cheerfully as I could, this is my cousin, mister Giles, Pharaoh.
He has just told me that he is going to
walk to the house. We shan't have the pleasure of
his company. He braked off his hat in a boorish
sort of way, his lank hair never seemed to and
stooped to lift his dress suit case. But at the
sound of her voice, like a sweet silver bell, always
with something courteous in the inflection, he stood up quickly,
(15:09):
gave her a keen, critical, almost arrogant look, and then
plumped himself down beside her in the back seat. I
don't know what it was. Always made Giles seem bigger
than the place he was in, Mopping his forehead and
blowing a bit, he was like a steam engine in
the back seat of my Ford. While I was laboring
to lift his heavy bags to the front seat, and
while I made sure that the doors were all fast
(15:30):
and did the many little things one does so proudly
about a ford, I saw him dart swift glances at
Julia's face. She rather turned away from him, which I
should judge was not what he was used to having
women do. And we rode on in silence for a
good while. All of a sudden he asked her if
she lived in one of the new concrete stables they
were putting up out here. She laughed and told him
(15:50):
that she lived in the one old house that had
been left standing. I knew it, he roared, You've got
some sense. I've seen you before too. I stumbled on
that old place when I was here in June, saw
you and your husband setting out flowers, foxgloves, nispah. How
did you happen to hit on that place? Look at
all these other insufferable boxes of houses. Look at that
one over there like a county jail. No shade anywhere either.
(16:14):
But I say, you don't look so well as when
I saw you before. What's the matter been? Ill? You
don't think that old houses are healthy, do you, Giles,
I threw back at him over my shoulder, to blazes
with health, he cried, incontinently, always thinking of your body
as you Americans. If Giles was out of sorts, he
always sailed into the Americans, just as if he weren't
(16:35):
one himself. There's a spirit in a soul to consider
these things you call homes. Look at them, garages, jails,
memorial bakes. Give me a house that has a spirit
in it, like missus. Julia's laugh was a little strained,
I thought, But the two of them fell into conversation.
They both lived in Europe and all that sort of thing.
So I, who had never been farther across the water
(16:56):
than to Staten Island, gave my thoughts to the smoothness
of the ford and the good September sunshine and air.
It was Giles who did most of the talking. But
now and then Julia asked a question, and once or
twice she laughed. At last we reached our home. I
got Giles's heavy luggage out on to the granolithic walk.
Annette came flying through the front door and down to
(17:17):
the car to greet him. My sensible wife was not
insensible of the fact that her relationship to Giles gave
her something of a standing in the community. This morning,
largely for the sake of Julia, I imagine, she greeted
him with more enthusiasm than the tie of second cousin
usually prompts. Lord, how human that is. But Giles stuck
fast in the car. He hardly acknowledged Annett's greeting at all,
(17:40):
but tried to continue his conversation with Julia, just as
if Annette had not been there beside the car, looking
right pretty too in the bright sunlight. You see, she
has a good skin and pretty hair. Well. It was
a little humiliating for Annette. Still, that was no excuse
for her taking it out on Julia. Julia was really
very sweet to Annette that morning, and thanked her specially
for having been good to Eric Friday night. And what
(18:02):
did Annette do but say something about having brought a
couple of nightmares to the house with him. I only
said it half jokingly, she explained to me later, when
I took her task for it. You heard me, Pierre,
I only said he had brought a couple of nightmares
to Bobby and Felicia. How could she have taken it.
So she knows that Bobby adorees Eric. She knows old
Felicia would lie down on the ground for Eric to
(18:23):
walk over her. She shouldn't be so sensitive. At the time,
I felt that her wrong had been done, and I
tried to relieve the situation by reminding Annette that Eric
had been good enough to take the nightmares away with him.
That didn't improve the situation, but it covered up the
silence which had fallen upon Julia's strange, inarticulate distress. Her
eyes looked quite horror struck. I remember thinking, well, women
(18:48):
beat the Dutch, and being glad that Annette couldn't see
the mark on Julia's other cheek. When women get going,
no mere man can tell where they'll end. Giles was
determined not to get out of the car, but to
go on with Julia and me to the old house.
I don't think he cared a hang about seeing it,
but he wanted to stay with Julia. How he puffed
and roared along the way in spite of him. However,
(19:09):
there were silent spaces. Julia said absolutely nothing and laughed
no more. The consciousness that Annette's brusqueness had pained her
never left my mind, but I had little idea how
nearly Julia was done for, to my utter dismay, she
fainted as she stepped out of the car. Luckily, Giles,
who could be as courteous as a bear, had got
(19:29):
round to the door on her side to help her out,
and he caught her in his powerful arms as she
sank forward. My he was strong. I think he could
have carried a net, and he carried Julia into the
house as if she were a feather. I ran ahead
to open the door, fortunately on the latch, and knowing
the house, I piloted him down the narrow hallway, hung
with that rosy stuff, into the sitting room, across the
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floor of which the sunlight, streaming between the rich curtains,
lay in bright bars. It touched the pillow on the sofa,
just the place for her head to wrin Her hat
fell off as Giles laid her down, and the sunbeams
glistened in her dark chestnut hair. No need to loosen
anything round the slender white throat which rose spotless from
the loose blouse she wore. Giles, the thick set, knelt
(20:15):
down beside her and chafed her hands for him. At
that moment, there was but one person in the world
besides himself. He was wholly absorbed in watching her face,
but only for a moment or two. He began shouting
for some one, any one, and ordering me not to
stand like a blockhead, but to fetch water, find the servant,
do something. He himself rushed to part the curtains wider,
(20:37):
and he nearly tore them down from their rods doing so,
and to open the windows and let in more air.
Before I left the room, I heard Julius say in
a low voice, keep that thing away from me. Don't
let it touch me. Oh Eric, how her whispers shook
with horror. By the time I returned to the room
with a kharaf of water and word that the servant
would follow me with cologne, Giles had dragged the count
(21:00):
with Julia on it, to the west windows, giving upon
the verandah and overlooking the river. A cool breeze came
up from the water and blew the curls round her
pale face, and Giles was standing looking at her, his
chin in his hand, his legs far apart, his whole
body tense and motionless. Is she better? I whispered, eh, yes,
(21:20):
he growled, what a handkerchief, and put it on her forehead.
You you, I did so, and Julia opened her eyes. Dazed.
At first, she asked for Eric, and when I told
her that he was gone, she said cryptically, he must
not come back yet, not yet. I was at a
loss to understand this, until as she regained more of
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her strength, she repeated several times, he must not see
me like this, he must not know he would indeed
have been tortured. At last, the old servant came in
with the cologne, and Julia held out a hand to me.
She spoke a word of thanks to Giles too, and
said to both of us, it's a feminine absurdity. It
means nothing except that, well nothing. I trust you not
(22:03):
to say a word to Eric about it. She closed
her eyes, the tears came pushing out slowly from beneath
her pallid lids. We knew it was time for us
to go. I'd left the motor running. There's extravagance for
you with gasolene mounting towards the sky, but I didn't care.
Giles got up in the front seat beside me, and
we started off without a word. At last, I said
(22:25):
that for your old houses, I don't believe that one's healthy.
I'll bet it's haunted too. But Giles never opened his lips,
except to put a cigarette between them, which he did
not try to light. We must have gone a mile
before he shot out at me her husband. What about him,
I gasped, startled her husband. He roared again. Look here, Giles,
(22:48):
I said, feeling pretty serious. He's a fine fellow, and
she adores him. End of chapter four
Chapter four of Sinister House by Leland Hall. The LibriVox
recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker,
Chapter four. All this happened early in September. The weather
had been uncertain from the middle of August, and the
day after Eric came home was furious with rain and wind.
(00:21):
We hadn't a very cheerful breakfast, Annette and I and
the children. Felicia had had nightmares too, and had let
the eggs burn. But I remember saying to my wife
when I got home that night, very wet and tired,
that it was sure to blow and rain itself out
at last, in time for my vacation, which I always
took in the fall, and which was due to begin
the next week. That's just what happened. After the fourteenth
(00:44):
or fifteenth of September, we had a three weeks spell
of the loveliest weather you can imagine. I always have
been lucky on my vacation. But it wasn't the spell
of weather, but the visit of Giles to our house
and what he brought with him or stirred up that
have made that epoch of vivid memory to me, one
which has stayed just behind my every day since for
nearly four years. At the time, none of that was
(01:05):
so real to me as my enjoyment of the mild
fall days, sowing the lawn, setting out bulbs. Anette and
I crocuses, daffodils, squoils. She can tell you what they were,
though I think it was Giles that set us to
doing it, tinkering with the ford and polishing it, days
of golf and picnics with the children up the river.
It may be temperamental with me, and the word makes
(01:27):
me laugh, but I've always found joy just as real
as sorrow, more real. Indeed, everything bad that comes to
me seems like an unpleasant dream from which I'm always
looking to wake up, whereas when I'm having a good time,
I don't want to go to bed at all. Half
our sorrows come from an overbalanced mind, and the other
half are aggravated by too much thinking on one's self.
(01:50):
I went on having a sensible, happy time while two
persons whom I knew intimately were being stretched tighter and
tighter on a rack. And not until I was caught
in the infernal thing myself had I the slightest suspicion
of what was going on. Of course I heard the gossip,
but I didn't heed it, And in our nightly counsels
I scolded a net for listening to it and favoring it.
(02:13):
As a matter of fact, she countenanced no more of
it than appeased her pique at Julia. That was very slight,
after all, and pardonable. If you confess with proper humility
that you don't see something, and the one to whom
you confess it replies with no, I suppose not in
a tone you take to mean poor thing. You ought
to see it, but you haven't since enough, or you
aren't refined enough, or you aren't made of the right stuff. Well,
(02:36):
it puts you on the look out for the beam
in the other fellow's eye, no matter how much you
may admire him. The trouble was, we both see now
that Annette misunderstood Julia's meaning entirely. The little remark, if
it was anything but a blind rang with envy rather
than with contempt. I used to laugh to see Annette
trying to pump her cousin for the latest dope on
(02:58):
the arts. Olivinnette's family, except Giles, were good sensible people
like herself, and Giles always remained a freak to them,
some one for whom an apology or at least an
explanation was necessary. I dare say no one of them,
save my wife, ever thought to profit by his abilities
and take a little schooling at his hands. But she
(03:20):
used in those days to ask him questions as if
she were humoring him, and entirely nonchalantly, And she quite
fooled me. Not until I began to hear queer words
of his lingo, such as composition values chiaroscura fall from
her own serene lips did I realize what she was
up to. And he he must have known it too,
(03:40):
and if he gave out anything at all to her,
it must have been with utmost carelessness. He didn't care
a snap of his finger about our sense of beauty.
He knew us for just what we were, pitied us
for that, liked us for that, and once confessed to
me envied us for that, which last I take to
mean that no one would be an artist if he
could help it. But i'm us say, Giles is a
(04:01):
fine fellow and a gentleman. He has since died fighting
for France, which he was the first to make me
understand would be fighting for the soul of the world.
As for the gossip, I had rather pass over it.
But since I am going to plunge into the heart
of the affair and must perforce confine myself to what
either Annette or I actually saw or experienced, I'd better
(04:21):
tell you some of the many yarns so that you
will have an idea of how the strange drama impressed
the circle of Foresby's best. So far as I can remember,
up to the time of Giles long stay with us,
the only thing Foresby had against Eric and Julia, and gossip,
you know, is always what you have against the other fellow,
was the fact that they live in that gloomy old house.
(04:43):
Julia was exceedingly charming. Eric was, by contrast, reserved. I've
already told you that the house was uncanny to most
of us. Added to their choice of such a dwelling,
their dress, their independent manners, and their way of speech
were enough to brand them. Is different To be different
is I have observed invariably blameworthy, And in this case
(05:04):
Eric naturally was held to blame. There was something queer
about him. I mean, that was the gossip. It never
got going very strong to tell the truth, I think
most of us stood a little in awe of him.
But during the six weeks that followed his dramatic home coming,
it so happened that he was now at home, now
off on another trip, and Forsby noticed not only that
(05:26):
in the periods of his being at home, Julia was
pale and depressed and didn't appear often on the links
of the Caraway Club in Stanton, but that when he
was away she brightened up in appearance and manners, and
played golf almost every day. Well, Giles was with her
a very great deal during the days and sometimes weeks
that Eric was away. They used to play golf together
(05:48):
and to take long walks together, and he was almost
every afternoon at her house for tea, whether Eric was
at home or not. It wasn't surprising that the ladies
began to whisper among themselves, nor was it surprising that
they came to the decision that Giles was in love
with Julia, that Julia glad of Giles's company, that everything
wasn't peaches and cream in the Greer household, but let
(06:09):
it go. The saddest part of it was that Eric
at one time probably heard some of it. He was
so sensitive that it didn't take much of a hint
to make him worry. Yet, as I have already told you,
he could never have doubted Julia's love for him. Now,
to go back to my story, it must have been
a Friday night that Eric came home so unexpectedly from
his first trip away. Though he told me that he
(06:31):
had only thirty six hours to pass at home with
his wife, he did not leave until Monday morning. This
I remember because early Monday morning I telephoned Julia. I
was going down to the train station from New York
to meet Giles, from whom we had received a telegram
the night before. I wanted to see Julia, and I
thought that perhaps I might give her a lift along
the road somewhere, or take some letter down to the
(06:51):
station for her. Besides, the Ford was working wonderfully well
that morning. You understand, we had seen nothing of Eric
or Julia since that Friday night. They were at that
time so wrapped up in each other that we should
not have thought of breaking in on them. To my surprise,
Eric answered the telephone, and it was he who was
glad of a chance to be taken to the station.
There was a train down to New York just before
(07:12):
Giles's train up from there was due. Eric was leaving
on that so I hustled over for him in the ford.
It was a wonderful morning. The shadows under the hemlocks
by Eric's house were the only dark things I saw,
and I always felt, rather than saw them. Eric was
waiting for me on the steps to the front door,
with his bags at his feet. Julia was standing beside him,
(07:33):
heavily veiled. Will you be good enough to take me
along too? She asked, in an unusually low voice. I
want to go with Eric as far as I can,
and Eric added, with great tenderness, I want her to
have a lot of this sweet fresh air. Then, for
(07:53):
Heaven's sake, take off that thick veil. Julia I cried,
it's a gorgeous day. Don't shut it out. There's no dust,
the roads are still wet. Do my dear Eric urged,
No one will see that mark. All the black and
blue spots in the world wouldn't make any difference to
me or to any one. She stood beside him. I
was going to say, trembling. I never saw Julia tremble
(08:15):
while she had strength enough to stand on her feet.
But there was something about her that morning suggestive of
extreme weakness, and I had a feeling of uncertainty about
her health. Have you had a fall, Julia, I asked anxiously.
The silly girl walked in her sleep last night, Eric explained,
and bumped her cheek in the way of a joke.
(08:36):
I shouted, oh you, lady macbeth. I had a moment's
pride of my knowledge of Shakespeare. But Julia put her
hand up in protest. Don't say that, She cried, I've
done nothing, nothing I can think of. I could see
that I had upset her, all right, Julia, I said,
I'll take your word for it, only please take off
that funeral crape and enjoy the morning sunshine. There's nothing
(08:59):
better than cool for fresh air for the black and
blue spots. That was a fatuous remark, but it pleased Eric.
We could not persuade Julia to lift her veil. However,
in her simple gray frock, she looked like a girl,
but for the wretched black drapery about her head, a
device which in my eyes always gives women the appearance
of victims going to the block to have their heads
cut off. Not one word did either of them say
(09:21):
too or for me? As I drove them through flat
foresby to the station that morning, but I heard their low,
affectionate voices all the way. That was a pleasant sound,
and together with the golden September weather dearly morning sun
in the clean washed air, drove from my mind the
thought it had harbored for a moment that this Julia
was not the merry Julia of our little Friday night dinner.
(09:43):
I remember a shock at the station, however, they were
greatly upset at parting, much as they controlled themselves, and
I left them standing on the platform and stepped to
my car just alongside. As the train came in, she
threw up her veil to take his kiss, and then
I caught a glimpse of her face. Anguish at parting
might have taken the blood from her cheeks. But when
after the train had pulled out of the station, she
(10:05):
came towards me, her veil still lifted, I saw she
was haggard as well as pale. Tears were in her eyes.
Just a step or two she appeared uncertain in her movement,
and then she set her lips and came forward staunchly.
She ignored the hand I offered to help her into
the car, and without even looking at me, stepped in
and took her seat. Calmly. I saw the mark high
(10:27):
on the right cheek bone, the discoloration spreading up under
the outer corner of the eye. She had forgotten about
her veils being lifted. Indeed, I now know that she
wore it to hide her face from Eric. Only up
to the final scene, it remained her greatest care to
conceal from Eric as far as she could the signs
of her suffering, the nature of which she had determined
(10:49):
he must not know. After a while, she blew her
nose a little, coughed, and then turned her moist gray
eyes to meet my too anxious Look. How foolish I
am to love him, so she said, smiling a little.
In the few minutes we had to wait for Giles's train,
we said nothing. She was completing the mastery over herself.
From time to time I stole a glance at her sweet,
(11:10):
determined little face. After her tears had ceased to flow,
she sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap,
and devoted herself more and more to her own thoughts,
no detail of which was recorded on the sensitive white
mask of her face. Under her breast and throat. I
saw waves of emotion rise and fall, but her firm
lips were locked against the force of them. It was
(11:31):
a relief to hear Giles's train come rumbling into the
station we were waiting on the inbound side. After the
train had pulled out, I saw Giles on the other
platform across the tracks. He had a couple of heavy
bags at his feet, and he was looking irascibly up
and down and all around, shouting porter at men on
our side of the rails, pointing his cane at them,
(11:52):
behaving as he usually behaves, as if the whole world
were reprehensibly indifferent to him, and he wouldn't put up
with it much longer. But I really envied in Giles
was not his ability as an artist, or his money,
or his swagger English clothes, but his contemptuous indifference to
making a scene. The two or three huskies on our
side of the station merely gave him the once over
(12:13):
and went on about their business. Oh, my beloved America,
have we not much to learn about the treatment of artists?
But believe me, I was tickled just the same. Of course,
it was up to me to go get his bags.
He could not be expected to carry them himself, So
I ran down through the tunnel under the tracks up
to cousin. Giles took his bags heavy brutes, one in
(12:33):
each hand, and started back again. And he followed me,
roaring all the way about this damn deserted place. I
knew I could have asked him what the blank he
came for, but it was never any satisfaction to come
back at Giles might as well ask Old Faithful what
he spouts for, or Vesuvius why she smokes. He was
a sort of short, thick set volcano himself. He had
(12:56):
a full face, not exactly sallow, but brownish, with rather
protruding yellow brown eyes, tremendously animated, a ludicrously small nose,
and nervous full lips, not a bit concealed by his
scant mustache, which was yellowish. Also, the line of his
jaw and chin was overlaid with flesh and muscle, and
he had the neck of a bull. Though he wasn't
what you'd call a beefy man, he was, I know,
(13:19):
tremendously intelligent, intolerant, impatient, and more nervous than any lean
man I've ever known. He was so full of energy
that I often wondered if he ever slept at all.
Funny what things come back to me. I do remember
one night I heard him snoring when there was a
horror stalking through the house. To many of us, he
seemed all fired important, and that's what he was, I
(13:41):
now believe, to his country and to the world. As
we approached the ford that morning and he saw that
there was a woman in it, he all but balked.
Probably he had had no sleep the night before, for
he had come from somewhere down in Maine, and the
thought of having to ride so early in the morning
with a commonplace woman gave his nerves another twist of
the screw. But I said, come on now, Giles, you've
(14:02):
got to be civil on such a fine morning. Besides,
it's missus Greer. Greer, Greer, he roared, making me hot
all over. I don't know any Greers. Why the devil
should I be civil to missus Greer? Because I answered,
in a low but angry voice. She's a damn fine woman,
whether you know her or not, and she isn't very well. Huh,
(14:24):
So you're going to give me a sick one on
this fine morning. Are you damned if I won't walk?
We didn't often damn ourselves and each other so freely,
and I was mortified at the thought that Julia might
have heard. By the way, I have never heard Eric
use an oath of any kind, But Julia was probably
too much absorbed in her own thoughts to hear us.
She started when I spoke to her, Julia, I said,
(14:46):
as cheerfully as I could, this is my cousin, mister Giles, Pharaoh.
He has just told me that he is going to
walk to the house. We shan't have the pleasure of
his company. He braked off his hat in a boorish
sort of way, his lank hair never seemed to and
stooped to lift his dress suit case. But at the
sound of her voice, like a sweet silver bell, always
with something courteous in the inflection, he stood up quickly,
(15:09):
gave her a keen, critical, almost arrogant look, and then
plumped himself down beside her in the back seat. I
don't know what it was. Always made Giles seem bigger
than the place he was in, Mopping his forehead and
blowing a bit, he was like a steam engine in
the back seat of my Ford. While I was laboring
to lift his heavy bags to the front seat, and
while I made sure that the doors were all fast
(15:30):
and did the many little things one does so proudly
about a ford, I saw him dart swift glances at
Julia's face. She rather turned away from him, which I
should judge was not what he was used to having
women do. And we rode on in silence for a
good while. All of a sudden he asked her if
she lived in one of the new concrete stables they
were putting up out here. She laughed and told him
(15:50):
that she lived in the one old house that had
been left standing. I knew it, he roared, You've got
some sense. I've seen you before too. I stumbled on
that old place when I was here in June, saw
you and your husband setting out flowers, foxgloves, nispah. How
did you happen to hit on that place? Look at
all these other insufferable boxes of houses. Look at that
one over there like a county jail. No shade anywhere either.
(16:14):
But I say, you don't look so well as when
I saw you before. What's the matter been? Ill? You
don't think that old houses are healthy, do you, Giles,
I threw back at him over my shoulder, to blazes
with health, he cried, incontinently, always thinking of your body
as you Americans. If Giles was out of sorts, he
always sailed into the Americans, just as if he weren't
(16:35):
one himself. There's a spirit in a soul to consider
these things you call homes. Look at them, garages, jails,
memorial bakes. Give me a house that has a spirit
in it, like missus. Julia's laugh was a little strained,
I thought, But the two of them fell into conversation.
They both lived in Europe and all that sort of thing.
So I, who had never been farther across the water
(16:56):
than to Staten Island, gave my thoughts to the smoothness
of the ford and the good September sunshine and air.
It was Giles who did most of the talking. But
now and then Julia asked a question, and once or
twice she laughed. At last we reached our home. I
got Giles's heavy luggage out on to the granolithic walk.
Annette came flying through the front door and down to
(17:17):
the car to greet him. My sensible wife was not
insensible of the fact that her relationship to Giles gave
her something of a standing in the community. This morning,
largely for the sake of Julia, I imagine, she greeted
him with more enthusiasm than the tie of second cousin
usually prompts. Lord, how human that is. But Giles stuck
fast in the car. He hardly acknowledged Annett's greeting at all,
(17:40):
but tried to continue his conversation with Julia, just as
if Annette had not been there beside the car, looking
right pretty too in the bright sunlight. You see, she
has a good skin and pretty hair. Well. It was
a little humiliating for Annette. Still, that was no excuse
for her taking it out on Julia. Julia was really
very sweet to Annette that morning, and thanked her specially
for having been good to Eric Friday night. And what
(18:02):
did Annette do but say something about having brought a
couple of nightmares to the house with him. I only
said it half jokingly, she explained to me later, when
I took her task for it. You heard me, Pierre,
I only said he had brought a couple of nightmares
to Bobby and Felicia. How could she have taken it.
So she knows that Bobby adorees Eric. She knows old
Felicia would lie down on the ground for Eric to
(18:23):
walk over her. She shouldn't be so sensitive. At the time,
I felt that her wrong had been done, and I
tried to relieve the situation by reminding Annette that Eric
had been good enough to take the nightmares away with him.
That didn't improve the situation, but it covered up the
silence which had fallen upon Julia's strange, inarticulate distress. Her
eyes looked quite horror struck. I remember thinking, well, women
(18:48):
beat the Dutch, and being glad that Annette couldn't see
the mark on Julia's other cheek. When women get going,
no mere man can tell where they'll end. Giles was
determined not to get out of the car, but to
go on with Julia and me to the old house.
I don't think he cared a hang about seeing it,
but he wanted to stay with Julia. How he puffed
and roared along the way in spite of him. However,
(19:09):
there were silent spaces. Julia said absolutely nothing and laughed
no more. The consciousness that Annette's brusqueness had pained her
never left my mind, but I had little idea how
nearly Julia was done for, to my utter dismay, she
fainted as she stepped out of the car. Luckily, Giles,
who could be as courteous as a bear, had got
(19:29):
round to the door on her side to help her out,
and he caught her in his powerful arms as she
sank forward. My he was strong. I think he could
have carried a net, and he carried Julia into the
house as if she were a feather. I ran ahead
to open the door, fortunately on the latch, and knowing
the house, I piloted him down the narrow hallway, hung
with that rosy stuff, into the sitting room, across the
(19:51):
floor of which the sunlight, streaming between the rich curtains,
lay in bright bars. It touched the pillow on the sofa,
just the place for her head to wrin Her hat
fell off as Giles laid her down, and the sunbeams
glistened in her dark chestnut hair. No need to loosen
anything round the slender white throat which rose spotless from
the loose blouse she wore. Giles, the thick set, knelt
(20:15):
down beside her and chafed her hands for him. At
that moment, there was but one person in the world
besides himself. He was wholly absorbed in watching her face,
but only for a moment or two. He began shouting
for some one, any one, and ordering me not to
stand like a blockhead, but to fetch water, find the servant,
do something. He himself rushed to part the curtains wider,
(20:37):
and he nearly tore them down from their rods doing so,
and to open the windows and let in more air.
Before I left the room, I heard Julius say in
a low voice, keep that thing away from me. Don't
let it touch me. Oh Eric, how her whispers shook
with horror. By the time I returned to the room
with a kharaf of water and word that the servant
would follow me with cologne, Giles had dragged the count
(21:00):
with Julia on it, to the west windows, giving upon
the verandah and overlooking the river. A cool breeze came
up from the water and blew the curls round her
pale face, and Giles was standing looking at her, his
chin in his hand, his legs far apart, his whole
body tense and motionless. Is she better? I whispered, eh, yes,
(21:20):
he growled, what a handkerchief, and put it on her forehead.
You you, I did so, and Julia opened her eyes. Dazed.
At first, she asked for Eric, and when I told
her that he was gone, she said cryptically, he must
not come back yet, not yet. I was at a
loss to understand this, until as she regained more of
(21:41):
her strength, she repeated several times, he must not see
me like this, he must not know he would indeed
have been tortured. At last, the old servant came in
with the cologne, and Julia held out a hand to me.
She spoke a word of thanks to Giles too, and
said to both of us, it's a feminine absurdity. It
means nothing except that, well nothing. I trust you not
(22:03):
to say a word to Eric about it. She closed
her eyes, the tears came pushing out slowly from beneath
her pallid lids. We knew it was time for us
to go. I'd left the motor running. There's extravagance for
you with gasolene mounting towards the sky, but I didn't care.
Giles got up in the front seat beside me, and
we started off without a word. At last, I said
(22:25):
that for your old houses, I don't believe that one's healthy.
I'll bet it's haunted too. But Giles never opened his lips,
except to put a cigarette between them, which he did
not try to light. We must have gone a mile
before he shot out at me her husband. What about him,
I gasped, startled her husband. He roared again. Look here, Giles,
(22:48):
I said, feeling pretty serious. He's a fine fellow, and
she adores him. End of chapter four
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