首页 >出版文学> The Works of Rudyard Kipling One>第22章
  August27-Heatherleghhasbeenindefatigableinhisattendanceonme;andonlyyesterdaytoldmethatIoughttosendinanapplicationforsickleaveAnapplicationtoescapethecompanyofaphantom!ArequestthattheGovernmentwouldgraciouslypermitmetogetridoffiveghostsandanairy’rickshawbygoingtoEnglandHeatherlegh’spropositionmovedmetoalmosthystericallaughterItoldhimthatIshouldawaittheendquietlyatSimla;andIamsurethattheendisnotfaroffBelievemethatI
  dreaditsadventmorethananywordcansay;andItorturemyselfnightlywithathousandspeculationsastothemannerofmydeath。
  ShallIdieinmybeddecentlyandasanEnglishgentlemanshoulddie;or,inonelastwalkontheMall,willmysoulbewrenchedfrommetotakeitsplaceforeverandeverbythesideofthatghastlyphantasm?ShallIreturntomyoldlostallegianceinthenextworld,orshallImeetAgnesloathingherandboundtohersidethroughalleternity?ShallwetwohoveroverthesceneofourlivestilltheendofTime?Asthedayofmydeathdrawsnearer,theintensehorrorthatalllivingfleshfeelstowardescapedspiritsfrombeyondthegravegrowsmoreandmorepowerfulItisanawfulthingtogodownquickamongthedeadwithscarcelyone-halfofyourlifecompletedItisathousandtimesmoreawfultowaitasIdoinyourmidst,forIknownotwhatunimaginableterrorPityme,atleastonthescoreofmy“delusion。”forI
  knowyouwillneverbelievewhatIhavewrittenhereYetassurelyaseveramanwasdonetodeathbythePowersofDarknessIamthatman。
  Injustice,too,pityherForassurelyaseverwomanwaskilledbyman,IkilledMrsWessingtonAndthelastportionofmypunishmentisevernowuponme。
  MYOWNTRUEGHOSTSTORY
  AsIcamethroughtheDesertthusitwas——
  AsIcamethroughtheDesert。
  TheCityofDreadfulNight。
  SomewhereintheOtherWorld,wheretherearebooksandpicturesandplaysandshopwindowstolookat,andthousandsofmenwhospendtheirlivesinbuildingupallfour,livesagentlemanwhowritesrealstoriesabouttherealinsidesofpeople;
  andhisnameisMrWalterBesantButhewillinsistupontreatinghisghostshehaspublishedhalfaworkshopfulofthem——
  withlevityHemakeshisghost-seerstalkfamiliarly,and,insomecases,flirtoutrageously,withthephantomsYoumaytreatanything,fromaViceroytoaVernacularPaper,withlevity;butyoumustbehavereverentlytowardaghost,andparticularlyanIndianone。
  Thereare,inthisland,ghostswhotaketheformoffat,cold,pobbycorpses,andhideintreesneartheroadsidetillatravelerpassesThentheydropuponhisneckandremainTherearealsoterribleghostsofwomenwhohavediedinchild-bedThesewanderalongthepathwaysatdusk,orhideinthecropsnearavillage,andcallseductivelyButtoanswertheircallisdeathinthisworldandthenextTheirfeetareturnedbackwardthatallsobermenmayrecognizethemThereareghostsoflittlechildrenwhohavebeenthrownintowellsThesehauntwellcurbsandthefringesofjungles,andwailunderthestars,orcatchwomenbythewristandbegtobetakenupandcarriedTheseandthecorpseghosts,however,areonlyvernaculararticlesanddonotattackSahibsNonativeghosthasyetbeenauthenticallyreportedtohavefrightenedanEnglishman;butmanyEnglishghostshavescaredthelifeoutofbothwhiteandblack。
  NearlyeveryotherStationownsaghostTherearesaidtobetwoatSimla,notcountingthewomanwhoblowsthebellowsatSyreedak-bungalowontheOldRoad;MussooriehasahousehauntedofaverylivelyThing;aWhiteLadyissupposedtodonight-
  watchmanroundahouseinLahore;Dalhousiesaysthatoneofherhouses“repeats“onautumneveningsalltheincidentsofahorriblehorse-and-precipiceaccident;Murreehasamerryghost,and,nowthatshehasbeensweptbycholera,willhaveroomforasorrowfulone;thereareOfficers’QuartersinMianMirwhosedoorsopenwithoutreason,andwhosefurnitureisguaranteedtocreak,notwiththeheatofJunebutwiththeweightofInvisibleswhocometoloungeinthechairs;Peshawurpossesseshousesthatnonewillwillinglyrent;andthereissomething——notfever——wrongwithabigbungalowinAllahabadTheolderProvincessimplybristlewithhauntedhouses,andmarchphantomarmiesalongtheirmainthoroughfares。
  Someofthedak-bungalowsontheGrandTrunkRoadhavehandylittlecemeteriesintheircompound——witnessestothe“changesandchancesofthismortallife“inthedayswhenmendrovefromCalcuttatotheNorthwestThesebungalowsareobjectionableplacestoputupinTheyaregenerallyveryold,alwaysdirty,whilethekhansamahisasancientasthebungalowHeeitherchatterssenilely,orfallsintothelongtrancesofageInbothmoodsheisuselessIfyougetangrywithhim,hereferstosomeSahibdeadandburiedthesethirtyyears,andsaysthatwhenhewasinthatSahib’sservicenotakhansamahintheProvincecouldtouchhimThenhejabbersandmowsandtremblesandfidgetsamongthedishes,andyourepentofyourirritation。
  Inthesedak-bungalows,ghostsaremostlikelytobefound,andwhenfound,theyshouldbemadeanoteofNotlongagoitwasmybusinesstoliveindak-bungalowsIneverinhabitedthesamehouseforthreenightsrunning,andgrewtobelearnedinthebreed。
  IlivedinGovernment-builtoneswithredbrickwallsandrailceilings,aninventoryofthefurniturepostedineveryroom,andanexcitedsnakeatthethresholdtogivewelcomeIlivedin“converted“ones——oldhousesofficiatingasdak-bungalows——wherenothingwasinitsproperplaceandtherewasn’tevenafowlfordinnerIlivedinsecond-handpalaceswherethewindblewthroughopen-workmarbletraceryjustasuncomfortablyasthroughabrokenpaneIlivedindak-bungalowswherethelastentryinthevisitors’bookwasfifteenmonthsold,andwheretheyslashedoffthecurry-kid’sheadwithaswordItwasmygoodlucktomeetallsortsofmen,fromsobertravelingmissionariesanddesertersflyingfromBritishRegiments,todrunkenloaferswhothrewwhiskybottlesatallwhopassed;andmystillgreatergoodfortunejusttoescapeamaternitycaseSeeingthatafairproportionofthetragedyofourlivesouthereacteditselfindak-
  bungalows,IwonderedthatIhadmetnoghostsAghostthatwouldvoluntarilyhangaboutadak-bungalowwouldbemadofcourse;butsomanymenhavediedmadindak-bungalowsthattheremustbeafairpercentageoflunaticghosts。
  InduetimeIfoundmyghost,orghostsrather,forthereweretwoofthemUptillthathourIhadsympathizedwithMrBesant’smethodofhandlingthem,asshownin“TheStrangeCaseofMr。
  LucraftandOtherStories。”IamnowintheOpposition。
  WewillcallthebungalowKatmaldak-bungalowButTHATwasthesmallestpartofthehorrorAmanwithasensitivehidehasnorighttosleepindak-bungalowsHeshouldmarryKatmaldak-
  bungalowwasoldandrottenandunrepairedThefloorwasofwornbrick,thewallswerefilthy,andthewindowswerenearlyblackwithgrimeItstoodonabypathlargelyusedbynativeSub-
  DeputyAssistantsofallkinds,fromFinancetoForests;butrealSahibswererareThekhansamah,whowasnearlybentdoublewitholdage,saidso。
  WhenIarrived,therewasafitful,undecidedrainonthefaceoftheland,accompaniedbyarestlesswind,andeverygustmadeanoiseliketherattlingofdrybonesinthestifftoddypalmsoutside。
  ThekhansamahcompletelylosthisheadonmyarrivalHehadservedaSahibonceDidIknowthatSahib?Hegavemethenameofawell-knownmanwhohasbeenburiedformorethanaquarterofacentury,andshowedmeanancientdaguerreotypeofthatmaninhisprehistoricyouthIhadseenasteelengravingofhimattheheadofadoublevolumeofMemoirsamonthbefore,andIfeltancientbeyondtelling。
  ThedayshutinandthekhansamahwenttogetmefoodHedidnotgothroughthepretenseofcallingit“khana“——man’svictuals。
  Hesaid“ratub。”andthatmeans,amongotherthings,“grub“——dog’srationsTherewasnoinsultinhischoiceofthetermHehadforgottentheotherword,Isuppose。
  Whilehewascuttingupthedeadbodiesofanimals,Isettledmyselfdown,afterexploringthedak-bungalowTherewerethreerooms,besidemyown,whichwasacornerkennel,eachgivingintotheotherthroughdingywhitedoorsfastenedwithlongironbarsThebungalowwasaverysolidone,butthepartitionwallsoftheroomswerealmostjerry-builtintheirflimsinessEverysteporbangofatrunkechoedfrommyroomdowntheotherthree,andeveryfootfallcamebacktremulouslyfromthefarwallsForthisreasonIshutthedoorTherewerenolamps——onlycandlesinlongglassshadesAnoilwickwassetinthebathroom。
  Forbleak,unadulteratedmiserythatdak-bungalowwastheworstofthemanythatIhadeversetfootinTherewasnofireplace,andthewindowswouldnotopen;soabrazierofcharcoalwouldhavebeenuselessTherainandthewindsplashedandgurgledandmoanedroundthehouse,andthetoddypalmsrattledandroared。
  Halfadozenjackalswentthroughthecompoundsinging,andahyenastoodafaroffandmockedthemAhyenawouldconvinceaSadduceeoftheResurrectionoftheDead——theworstsortofDead。
  Thencametheratub——acuriousmeal,halfnativeandhalfEnglishincomposition——withtheoldkhansamahbabblingbehindmychairaboutdeadandgoneEnglishpeople,andthewind-blowncandlesplayingshadow-bo-peepwiththebedandthemosquito-curtains。
  Itwasjustthesortofdinnerandeveningtomakeamanthinkofeverysingleoneofhispastsins,andofalltheothersthatheintendedtocommitifhelived。
  Sleep,forseveralhundredreasons,wasnoteasyThelampinthebath-roomthrewthemostabsurdshadowsintotheroom,andthewindwasbeginningtotalknonsense。
  Justwhenthereasonsweredrowsywithblood-suckingIheardtheregular——“Let——us——take——and——heave——him——over“gruntofdoolie-
  bearersinthecompoundFirstonedooliecamein,thenasecond,andthenathirdIheardthedooliesdumpedontheground,andtheshutterinfrontofmydoorshook“That’ssomeonetryingtocomein。”IsaidButnoonespoke,andIpersuadedmyselfthatitwasthegustywindTheshutteroftheroomnexttominewasattacked,flungback,andtheinnerdooropened“That’ssomeSub-DeputyAssistant。”Isaid,“andhehasbroughthisfriendswithhimNowthey’lltalkandspitandsmokeforanhour。”
  ButtherewerenovoicesandnofootstepsNoonewasputtinghisluggageintothenextroomThedoorshut,andIthankedProvidencethatIwastobeleftinpeaceButIwascurioustoknowwherethedoolieshadgoneIgotoutofbedandlookedintothedarknessTherewasneverasignofadoolieJustasIwasgettingintobedagain,Iheard,inthenextroom,thesoundthatnomaninhissensescanpossiblymistake——thewhirofabilliardballdownthelengthoftheslateswhenthestrikerisstringingforbreakNoothersoundislikeitAminuteafterwardstherewasanotherwhir,andIgotintobedIwasnotfrightened——indeedI
  wasnotIwasverycurioustoknowwhathadbecomeofthedooliesIjumpedintobedforthatreason。
  NextminuteIheardthedoubleclickofacannonandmyhairsatupItisamistaketosaythathairstandsupTheskinoftheheadtightensandyoucanfeelafaint,prickly,bristlingalloverthescalpThatisthehairsittingup。
  Therewasawhirandaclick,andbothsoundscouldonlyhavebeenmadebyonething——abilliardballIarguedthematteroutatgreatlengthwithmyself;andthemoreIarguedthelessprobableitseemedthatonebed,onetable,andtwochairs——allthefurnitureoftheroomnexttomine——couldsoexactlyduplicatethesoundsofagameofbilliardsAfteranothercannon,athree-cushiononetojudgebythewhir,IarguednomoreIhadfoundmyghostandwouldhavegivenworldstohaveescapedfromthatdak-
  bungalowIlistened,andwitheachlistenthegamegrewclearer。
  TherewaswhironwhirandclickonclickSometimestherewasadoubleclickandawhirandanotherclickBeyondanysortofdoubt,peoplewereplayingbilliardsinthenextroomAndthenextroomwasnotbigenoughtoholdabilliardtable!
  BetweenthepausesofthewindIheardthegamegoforward——
  strokeafterstrokeItriedtobelievethatIcouldnothearvoices;
  butthatattemptwasafailure。