The apparition by guill de montperson. The subject of sequestration of the person came
up in speaking of a recent lawsuit, and each of us had a story
to tell, a true story. He said. We have been spending the
evening together at an old family mansion in the Rue du Grenelle, just a
party of intimate friends. The old Marquis de la Tour Samuel, who was
eighty two, rose and, leaning his elbow on the mantel piece, said,
in his somewhat shaky voice, I also know of something strange, so
strange that it has haunted me all my life. It is now fifty six
years since the incident occurred, and yet not a month passes that I do
not see it again in a dream. So great is the impression of fear
it has left on my mind. For ten minutes, I experienced such horrible
fright that ever since then, a sort of constant terror has remained with me.
Sudden noises startle me violently, and objects imperfectly distinguished at night inspire me
with a mad desire to flee from them. In short, I am afraid
of the dark. But I would not have acknowledged that before I reached my
present age. Now I can say anything I have never receded before real danger,
ladies. It is therefore permissible, at eighty two years of age not
to be brave in presence of imaginary danger. That affair so completely upset me
caused me such deep and mysterious and terrible distress that I I never spoke of
it to anyone. I will now tell it to you exactly as it happened,
without any attempt at explanation. In July eighteen twenty seven, I was
stationed at one one day, as I was walking along the quay, I
met a man whom I thought I recognized, without being able to recall exactly
who he was. Instinctively I made a movement to stop. The stranger perceived
it, and at once extended his hand. He was a friend to whom
I had been deeply attached as a yuse for five years. I had not
seen him. He seemed to have aged half a century. His hair was
quite white, and he walked bent over, as though completely exhausted. He
apparently understood my surprise, and he told me of the misfortune which had shattered
his life. Having fallen madly in love with a young girl, he had
married her, but after a year of more than earthly happiness, she died
suddenly of an affection of the heart. He left his country home on the
very day of her burial and came to his town house in Rooin, where
he lived alone and unhappy, so sad and wretched that he thought constantly of
suicide. Since I've found you again in this manner, he said, I
will ask you to render me an important service. It is to go and
get me out of the desk in my bedroom, our bedroom, some papers
of which I have urgent need. I cannot send a servant or a business
clerk, as discretion and absolute silence unnecessary. As for myself, nothing on
earth would induce me to re enter that house. I will give you the
key of the room, which I myself locked on leaving, and the key
of my desk. Also a few words for my gardener, telling him to
open the chateau for you. But come on breakfast with me tomorrow and we
will arrange all that I promised to do him. The slight favor he asked,
it was for that matter only a ride which I could make in an
hour on horseback, his property being but a few miles distant from vois.
At ten o'clock the following day, I breakfasted tete a tit with my friend,
but he scarcely spoke. He begged me to pardon him. The thought
of the visit I was about to make to that room the scene of his
dead happiness overcame him, he said. He indeed seemed singularly agitated and preoccupied,
as though undergoing some mysterious mental struggle. At length, he explained to
me exactly what I had to do. It was very simple. I must
take two packages of letters and a roll of papers from the first right hand
drawer of the desk, of which I have a key. He added,
I need not beg you to refrain from glancing at them. I was wounded
at that remark and told him so somewhat sharply. He stammered, forgive me,
I suffer so, and tears came to his eyes. At about one
o'clock I took leave of him to accomplish my mission. The weather was glorious,
and I trotted across the fields, listening to the song of the larks
and the rhythmical clang of my sword against my boot. Then I entered the
forest and walked my horse branches of trees caressed my face as I passed,
And now and then I caught a leaf with my teeth and chewed it from
sheer gladness of heart at being alive and vigorous on such a radiant day.
As I approached the chateau, I took from my pocket the letter I had
for the gardener, and was astonished at finding it sealed. I was so
irritated that I was about to turn back without having fulfilled my promise, but
reflected that I shall thereby display undue susceptibility. My friend, in his troubled
condition, might easily have fastened the envelope without noticing that he did so.
The manner looked as if it had been abandoned for twenty years. The open
gate was falling from it hinges, the walks were overgrown with grass, and
the flower beds were no longer distinguishable. The noise I made by kicking it
a shutter brought out an old man from a side door. He seemed stunned
with astonishment at seeing me. On receiving my letter, he read it,
re read it, turned it over, and over looked me up and down,
put the paper in his pocket, and finally said, well, what
is it you wish? I replied shortly, you ought to know, since
you've just read your master's orders, I wished to enter the chateau. He
seemed overcome. Then you're going in into her room. I began to lose
patience. Damn it, are you presuming to question me? He stammered in
confusion. No, sir, but but it's not been opened since the death.
If you will be kind enough to wait five minutes, I will go
and see if, I interrupted him angrily, see here, what do you
mean by your tricks? You know very well you cannot enter the room,
since here is the key. He no longer objected. Then, sir,
I will show you the way, show me the staircase, and leave me.
I'll find my way without you. But sir, indeed, this time
I lost patience, and, pushing him aside, went into the house.
I first went through the kitchen, then two rooms occupied by this man and
his wife. I then crossed a large hall, mounted a staircase, and
recognized the door described by my friend. I easily opened it and entered the
apartment. It was so dark that at first I could distinguish nothing. I
stopped short disagreeably affected by that disagreeable, musty odor of closed unoccupied rooms.
As my eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness, I saw plainly enough a
large and disordered bedroom, the bed without sheets, but still retaining its mattresses
and pillows, on one of which was a deep impression, as though an
elbow or a head had recently rested there. The chairs all seemed out of
place. I noticed that a door, doubtless that of a closet, had
remained half open. I first went to the window, which I opened to
let in the light, but the fastenings of the shutters had grown so rusty
that I could not move them. I even tried to break them with my
sword, but without success. As I was growing ill irritated over my useless
efforts, and could now see fairly well in the semi darkness, I gave
up the hope of getting more light and went over to the writing desk.
I seated myself in an armchair, and letting down the lid of the desk,
I opened the drawer designated it was full to the top. I needed
but three packages, which I knew how to recognize, and began searching for
them. I was straining my eyes in the effort to read the superscriptions.
When I seemed to hear, or rather feel, something rustle back of me,
I paid no attention, believing that a draft from the window was moving
some drapery. But in a minute or so another movement, almost imperceptible,
sent a strangely disagreeable little shiver over my skin. It was so stupid to
be affected even slightly that self respect prevented my turning around. I had just
found the second package I needed and was about to lay my hand on the
third, when a long and painful sigh uttered just at my shoulder, made
me bound like a madman from my seat and land several feet off. As
I jumped, I had turned round my hand on the hilt of my sword,
and truly, if I had not felt it at my side, I
should have taken to my heels like a coward. A tall woman dressed in
white stood gazing at me from the back of the chair where I had been
sitting. An instant before, such a shudder ran through all my limbs that
I nearly fell backward. No one who has not experienced it can understand that
fright, unreasoning terror the mind becomes vague, the heart ceases to beat,
the entire body grows as limp as a sponge. I do not believe in
ghosts. Nevertheless, I collapsed from a hideous dread of the dead. And
I suffered. Oh I suffered in a few moments, more than in all
the rest of my life, from the irresistible terror of the supernatural. If
she had not spoken, I should have died, perhaps, But she spoke.
She spoke in a sweet, sad voice that set my nerves vibrating.
I dare not say that I became master of myself and recovered my reason.
No. I was terrified and scarcely knew what I was doing. But as
certain innate pride, a remnant of soldierly instinct, made me, almost in
spite of myself, maintain a bald front. She said, Oh, sir,
you can render me a great service. I wanted to reply, but
it was impossible for me to pronounce a word. Only a vague sound came
from my throat. She continued, will you you can save me, cure
me? I suffer, frightfully, I suffer, Oh how I suffer?
And she slowly seated herself in my armchair, still looking at me, will
you, she said. I nodded in assent, my voice still being paralyzed.
Then she held out to me a tortoise shell comb and murmured, comb
my hair, Oh, comb my hair. That will cure me. It
must be combed. Look at my head, how I suffer and my hair
pulls so her hair unbound, very long and very black. It seemed to
me hung over the back of the arm chair and touched the floor. Why
did I promise? Why did I take that comb with a shudder? And
why did I hold in my hands her long black hair that gave my skin
a frightful cold sensation as though I were handling snakes. I cannot tell that
sensation has remained in my fingers, and I still tremble in recalling it.
I combed her hair, I handled. I know not how those icy locks
I twisted, knotted and unknotted and braided them. She sighed, bowed her
head, seemed happy. Suddenly she said, thank you, snatched the comb
from my hands, and fled by the door that I had noticed Ajar left
alone. I experienced for several seconds the horrible agitation of one who awakens from
a nightmare. At length, I regained my senses. I ran to the
window, and with a mighty effort, burst open the shutters, letting a
flood of light into the room. Immediately I sprang to the door by which
that being had departed. I found it closed and immovable. Then the mad
desire to flee overcame me like a panic, the panic which soldiers know in
battle. I seized the three packets of letters on the open desk, ran
from the room, dashed down the stairs four steps at a time, found
myself outside, I know not how, and, perceiving my horse a few
steps off, leaped into the saddle and gallup away. I stopped only when
I reached to wap and alighted at my lodgings, throwing the reins to my
orderly. I fled to my room and shut myself in to reflect for an
hour. I anxiously asked myself if I were not the victim of a hallucination.
Undoubtedly I had had one of those incomprehensible nervous attacks, those exaltations of
mind that give rise to visions and are the stronghold of the supernatural. And
I was about to believe I had seen a vision, had a hallucination,
when As I approached the window, my eyes fell by chance upon my breast.
My military cape was covered with long black hairs, one by one with
trembling fingers, I plucked them off and threw them away. I then called
my orderly. I was too disturbed, too upset, to go and see
my friend that day, and I also wished to reflect more fully upon what
I ought to tell him. I sent him his letters, for which he
gave the soldier a receipt. He asked after me most particularly, and,
on being told I was ill had had a sunstroke, appeared exceedingly anxious.
Next morning, I went to him, determined to tell him the truth.
He had gone out the evening before and had not yet returned. I called
again during the day my friend was still absent. After waiting a week longer
without news of him, I notified the authorities, and the judicial search was
instituted. Not the slightest trace of his whereabouts or manner of disappearance was discovered.
A minute inspection of the abandoned chateau revealed nothing of a suspicious character.
There was no indication that a woman had been concealed. There After, fruitless
researches all further efforts were abandoned, and for fifty six years I have heard
nothing. I know no more than before and of the apparition