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“I didn't imagine it!” the baronet shouted.
There came a loud clang as one of the maids dropped a servingspoon onto the floor.
“Take care, young lady! Have some discipline!” ColonelLushington snapped. “An accident, I should think. Never mind. Goand fetch a fresh spoon, there's a good girl.”
“Wait!” Burton interrupted. “What's your name, miss?”
The maid turned beetroot red, curtseyed, and answered:“Christina Flowers, sir.”
“Have you seen the spectre, too, Miss Flowers?”
She swallowed, licked her lips, and looked anxiously at each ofthe men.
“I-I-”
“You can speak freely,” Lushington advised. “I'm sorry I barkedat you that way. Military training. What is it you've seen?”
The girl sniffed and said: “Beggin’ your pardon, sirs, it-itwere in the ’allway leading to the kitchen. Two nights past-in theearly hours of the mornin’. I couldn't sleep an’ I wanted a drinko’ water. As I came along the ‘all, I ‘eard a knock-knock-knockin’an’ I thought Mrs. Picklethorpe must be up and about.”
“Mrs. Picklethorpe is the cook,” Lushington explained to Burtonand Swinburne. “So it wasn't mice, as I thought. Although I didn't.Think, that is.”
“Aye, sir, the cook. So I goes toward the kitchen to see ifanythin’ was amiss and there-there in the ‘allway-therewas-was-”
The girl began to tremble violently and put her hands to herface.
“Oooh!” she moaned.
“What was it, Miss Flowers?” Burton asked gently.
She looked up. Her face had gone from red to stark white.
“It were like a mist, sir, but in the shape of a woman. She werea-knockin’ on the walls, then she turned ‘er ‘ead an’ lookedstraight at me.”
“You could see her eyes?”
“Yes! Oh lor’, terrible they were! Like black pebbles a-floatin’in the cloud. She stared at me all wicked, then disappeared. Justblew away, she did, like smoke in the wind.”
“Yes!” Sir Alfred cried. “Those eyes! God in heaven, they'refrightful!”
“Thank you, Miss-what-was-it?” said Lushington.
“Flowers, sir.”
“Ah yes, very pretty name. Reminds me of-um-um-um-flowers. Well,continue with your duties, please.”
The maid bobbed and ran out of the room.
Swinburne looked at Burton and raised an eyebrow.
Burton gave a slight shrug and turned to Tichborne: “And you,Sir Alfred-you saw the same?”
“Yes! I've been hearing that damnable knocking around the housefor nigh on a month, always at night.”
“A month? So it started around the same time as all the clocksstopped?”
“Ah, why yes, that's right. Each time I've heard the noise, I'vegone to investigate only to have it fall silent as I approached. Ididn't see anything until two weeks ago. It was, I'd guess, aboutthree in the morning, and I was unable to sleep, so I went down tothe library, smoked a few cigars, and read awhile. I was in one ofthe high-backed armchairs facing the fireplace. If you sit thereand someone enters, they can't see you, but it works the other way,too, and unknown to me, someone did enter.”
He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, staring down atthe food on his plate. He hadn't yet touched it. His companionsweren't paying much attention to their supper either.
“A sudden knocking from the other side of the room made me jumpout of my skin. It was the sound of knuckles on the woodenpanelling of the far wall. Knock-knock. Knock-knock. Over and over,progressing across the wall. I leaned over the side of my chair,looked back, and saw the ghost.”
“The same as Miss Flowers described?”
“In every respect. She was drifting alongside the wall, with anarm raised, banging on the panels. I watched, and I don't mindadmitting that I was paralysed with fear. Perhaps half a minutepassed, then something-I don't know what-alerted the phantom to mypresence. She suddenly swirled around and a pair of ghastly eyes,blacker than pitch, glared at me with such malevolence that Iscreamed in terror. The thing then vanished, just as the maid said,as if blown away by a wind.”
Sir Alfred looked up at the portrait of his ancestor.
“It was Lady Mabella,” he whispered.
“What makes you think so?”
“The eyes were hers.”
“But Mabella de Tichborne lived hundreds of years ago, man! Howdo you know what her eyes were like?”
Tichborne stood. “Wait,” he said. “I'm going to getsomething.”
He left the room.
“What do you think?” Lushington asked Burton, in a lowvoice.
“Were it only Sir Alfred who saw the apparition, I mightconsider him mentally disturbed,” Burton answered. “But we have thegirl's account, too. And you yourself have heard the knocking.”
“I haven't heard a thing,” Doctor Jankyn said, “and I'm a lightsleeper, what!”
“I shall sit up tonight!” Swinburne declared. “I want to seethis mysterious phantom for myself!”
“We can't discount the clocks, either,” Burton added. “Theyprovide empirical evidence that something very peculiar ishappening in this house.”
“In that case, you'd better add the gunroom to your list,” saidLushington.
“What? Why?”
“All the guns have jammed. No explanation. In fact, the onlyshooters on the estate that work are those the groundsman keeps inhis lodge.”
“That's extraordinary! Would I be right to suppose that theystopped working at the same time as the clocks?”
“Not sure, but probably, yes.”
The men gave their attention to the meal until, a few minuteslater, Sir Alfred returned, holding a sheet of parchment. He satand said: “Listen to this. It's been in the family for generations.A poem. No one knows what it signifies.”
He began to read: “Hell's bane black, lamenting ‘neathtears,
That weep within My Lady's round,
Under the weight of cursed years,
By her damned charity bound. “One curse here enfoldsanother,
Vexations in the poor enables,
Consume if thou wouldst uncover
Eye blacker than Lady Mabella's.”
“My Aunt Agatha's blue feather hat!” Swinburne screeched. “Butthat's awful! Hideous doggerel! Who wrote it? A simpleton?”
Sir Alfred Tichborne cleared his throat and said: “According tofamily legend, it was written by Roger de Tichborne himself. It waspassed to my father by my grandfather, just as it had been passedto him by his.” He handed the parchment to Burton. “As you can see,it clearly suggests that the Lady Mabella had notably blackeyes.”
Burton looked at the paper, nodded, and said: “Could I borrowthis? I'd like to examine it more closely.”
“Be my guest.”
“I say, Richard!” Swinburne said, excitedly. “That seemsrather-”
He stopped, brought up short by a fierce glance from hisfriend.
Burton turned back to Tichborne. “Your second and thirdsightings of the ghost-what happened?”
“The second was three nights later. I was woken in the night bythe knocking, which was coming from the upper landing at the top ofthe stairs. I left my bed and went to investigate. Lady Mabella wasthere, moving-floating, really-from the top of the staircase towardthe bottom, rapping on the wall as she went. The instant I saw her,she turned, cut me through with those dreadful eyes, andvanished.
“Two nights ago, I saw her again. This time it was in thecorridor that leads from the main drawing room to the billiardroom. I'd come down to fetch my cigars. It was about half-past twoin the morning.”
“Another sleepless night?”
“Yes. I've been having a lot of them since this blasted Claimantaffair began. Anyway, I was walking along the corridor when, all ofa sudden, the air in front of me thickened, a mist formed, and ittook the shape of Lady Mabella. She seemed to be facing the otherway, for when I took a step backward, a board creaked beneath myfeet and the mist whirled, bringing her eyes around to face me.They pierced me through, then suddenly the ghost rushed forward andwrapped me in such an intense chill that I passed out on the spot.When I awoke, perhaps thirty minutes later, I returned to my room,collapsed onto my bed, and passed out again. In the morning, Ifound that my hair had turned entirely white.”