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The Toll-House

W. W. Jacobs




  Produced by David Widger

  SAILORS' KNOTS

  By W.W. Jacobs

  1909

  "THE TOLL-HOUSE"

  "It's all nonsense," said Jack Barnes. "Of course people have died in thehouse; people die in every house. As for the noises--wind in the chimneyand rats in the wainscot are very convincing to a nervous man. Give meanother cup of tea, Meagle."

  "Lester and White are first," said Meagle, who was presiding at thetea-table of the Three Feathers Inn. "You've had two."

  Lester and White finished their cups with irritating slowness, pausingbetween sips to sniff the aroma, and to discover the sex and dates ofarrival of the "strangers" which floated in some numbers in the beverage.Mr. Meagle served them to the brim, and then, turning to the grimlyexpectant Mr. Barnes, blandly requested him to ring for hot water.

  "We'll try and keep your nerves in their present healthy condition," heremarked. "For my part I have a sort of half-and-half belief in thesuper-natural."

  "All sensible people have," said Lester. "An aunt of mine saw a ghostonce."

  White nodded.

  "I had an uncle that saw one," he said.

  "It always is somebody else that sees them," said Barnes.

  "Well, there is a house," said Meagle, "a large house at an absurdly lowrent, and nobody will take it. It has taken toll of at least one life ofevery family that has lived there--however short the time--and since ithas stood empty caretaker after care-taker has died there. The lastcaretaker died fifteen years ago."

  "Exactly," said Barnes. "Long enough ago for legends to accumulate."

  "I'll bet you a sovereign you won't spend the night there alone, for allyour talk," said White, suddenly.

  "And I," said Lester.

  "No," said Barnes slowly. "I don't believe in ghosts nor in anysupernatural things whatever; all the same I admit that I should not careto pass a night there alone."

  "But why not?" inquired White.

  "Wind in the chimney," said Meagle with a grin.

  "Rats in the wainscot," chimed in Lester. "As you like," said Barnescoloring.

  "Suppose we all go," said Meagle. "Start after supper, and get thereabout eleven. We have been walking for ten days now without anadventure--except Barnes's discovery that ditchwater smells longest. Itwill be a novelty, at any rate, and, if we break the spell by allsurviving, the grateful owner ought to come down handsome."

  "Let's see what the landlord has to say about it first," said Lester."There is no fun in passing a night in an ordinary empty house. Let usmake sure that it is haunted."

  He rang the bell, and, sending for the landlord, appealed to him in thename of our common humanity not to let them waste a night watching in ahouse in which spectres and hobgoblins had no part. The reply was morethan reassuring, and the landlord, after describing with considerable artthe exact appearance of a head which had been seen hanging out of awindow in the moonlight, wound up with a polite but urgent request thatthey would settle his bill before they went.

  "It's all very well for you young gentlemen to have your fun," he saidindulgently; "but supposing as how you are all found dead in the morning,what about me? It ain't called the Toll-House for nothing, you know."

  "Who died there last?" inquired Barnes, with an air of polite derision.

  "A tramp," was the reply. "He went there for the sake of half a crown,and they found him next morning hanging from the balusters, dead."

  "Suicide," said Barnes. "Unsound mind."

  The landlord nodded. "That's what the jury brought it in," he saidslowly; "but his mind was sound enough when he went in there. I'd knownhim, off and on, for years. I'm a poor man, but I wouldn't spend thenight in that house for a hundred pounds."

  "I'm a poor man, but I wouldn't spend the night in thathouse for a hundred pounds."]

  He repeated this remark as they started on their expedition a few hourslater. They left as the inn was closing for the night; bolts shotnoisily behind them, and, as the regular customers trudged slowlyhomewards, they set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the house.Most of the cottages were already in darkness, and lights in others wentout as they passed.

  "It seems rather hard that we have got to lose a night's rest in order toconvince Barnes of the existence of ghosts," said White.

  "It's in a good cause," said Meagle. "A most worthy object; andsomething seems to tell me that we shall succeed. You didn't forget thecandles, Lester?"

  "I have brought two," was the reply; "all the old man could spare."

  There was but little moon, and the night was cloudy. The road betweenhigh hedges was dark, and in one place, where it ran through a wood, soblack that they twice stumbled in the uneven ground at the side of it.

  "Fancy leaving our comfortable beds for this!" said White again. "Letme see; this desirable residential sepulchre lies to the right, doesn'tit?"

  "Farther on," said Meagle.

  They walked on for some time in silence, broken only by White's tributeto the softness, the cleanliness, and the comfort of the bed which wasreceding farther and farther into the distance. Under Meagle's guidancethey turned oft at last to the right, and, after a walk of a quarter of amile, saw the gates of the house before them.

  "They saw the gates of the house before them."]

  The lodge was almost hidden by overgrown shrubs and the drive was chokedwith rank growths. Meagle leading, they pushed through it until the darkpile of the house loomed above them.

  "There is a window at the back where we can get in, so the landlordsays," said Lester, as they stood before the hall door.

  "Window?" said Meagle. "Nonsense. Let's do the thing properly. Where'sthe knocker?"

  He felt for it in the darkness and gave a thundering rat-tat-tat at thedoor.

  "Don't play the fool," said Barnes crossly.

  "Ghostly servants are all asleep," said Meagle gravely, "but I'll wakethem up before I've done with them. It's scandalous keeping us out herein the dark."

  He plied the knocker again, and the noise volleyed in the emptinessbeyond. Then with a sudden exclamation he put out his hands and stumbledforward.

  "Why, it was open all the time," he said, with an odd catch in his voice."Come on."

  "I don't believe it was open," said Lester, hanging back. "Somebody isplaying us a trick."

  "Nonsense," said Meagle sharply. "Give me a candle. Thanks. Who's gota match?"

  Barnes produced a box and struck one, and Meagle, shielding the candlewith his hand, led the way forward to the foot of the stairs. "Shut thedoor, somebody," he said, "there's too much draught."

  "It is shut," said White, glancing behind him.

  Meagle fingered his chin. "Who shut it?" he inquired, looking from oneto the other. "Who came in last?"

  "I did," said Lester, "but I don't remember shutting it--perhaps I did,though."

  Meagle, about to speak, thought better of it, and, still carefullyguarding the flame, began to explore the house, with the others closebehind. Shadows danced on the walls and lurked in the corners as theyproceeded. At the end of the passage they found a second staircase, andascending it slowly gained the first floor.

  "Careful!" said Meagle, as they gained the landing.

  He held the candle forward and showed where the balusters had brokenaway. Then he peered curiously into the void beneath.

  "This is where the tramp hanged himself, I suppose," he saidthoughtfully.

  "You've got an unwholesome mind," said White, as they walked on. "Thisplace is qutie creepy enough without your remembering that. Now let'sfind a comfortable room and have a little nip of whiskey apiece and apipe. How will this do?"

  He opened a door at the end of the passage and revealed a small squareroo
m. Meagle led the way with the candle, and, first melting a drop ortwo of tallow, stuck it on the mantelpiece. The others seated themselveson the floor and watched pleasantly as White drew from his pocket a smallbottle of whiskey and a tin cup.

  "H'm! I've forgotten the water," he exclaimed. "I'll soon get some,"said Meagle.

  He tugged violently at the bell-handle, and the rusty jangling of a bellsounded from a distant kitchen. He rang