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第1章

  TheLostDuchessTheMinorCanonThePipeThePuzzleTheGreatValdezSapphireModernEnglishMysteryStoriesRudyardKiplingMyOwnTrueGhostStoryAsIcamethroughtheDesertthusitwas——
  AsIcamethroughtheDesert。
  TheCityofDreadfulNight。
  SomewhereintheOtherWorld,wheretherearebooksandpicturesandplaysandshopwindowstolookat,andthousandsofmenwhospendtheirlivesinbuildingupallfour,livesagentlemanwhowritesrealstoriesabouttherealinsidesofpeople;andhisnameisMr。WalterBesant。Buthewillinsistupontreatinghisghosts——
  hehaspublishedhalfaworkshopfulofthem——withlevity。Hemakeshisghost-seerstalkfamiliarly,and,insomecases,flirtoutrageously,withthephantoms。Youmaytreatanything,fromaViceroytoaVernacularPaper,withlevity;butyoumustbehavereverentlytowardaghost,andparticularlyanIndianone。
  Thereare,inthisland,ghostswhotaketheformoffat,cold,pobbycorpses,andhideintreesneartheroadsidetillatravelerpasses。Thentheydropuponhisneckandremain。Therearealsoterribleghostsofwomenwhohavediedinchild-bed。Thesewanderalongthepathwaysatdusk,orhideinthecropsnearavillage,andcallseductively。Buttoanswertheircallisdeathinthisworldandthenext。Theirfeetareturnedbackwardthatallsobermenmayrecognizethem。Thereareghostsoflittlechildrenwhohavebeenthrownintowells。Thesehauntwellcurbsandthefringesofjungles,andwailunderthestars,orcatchwomenbythewristandbegtobetakenupandcarried。Theseandthecorpseghosts,however,areonlyvernaculararticlesanddonotattackSahibs。NonativeghosthasyetbeenauthenticallyreportedtohavefrightenedanEnglishman;butmanyEnglishghostshavescaredthelifeoutofbothwhiteandblack。
  NearlyeveryotherStationownsaghost。TherearesaidtobetwoatSimla,notcountingthewomanwhoblowsthebellowsatSyreedak-bungalowontheOldRoad;MussooriehasahousehauntedofaverylivelyThing;aWhiteLadyissupposedtodonight-watchmanroundahouseinLahore;Dalhousiesaysthatoneofherhouses“repeats“onautumneveningsalltheincidentsofahorriblehorse-
  and-precipiceaccident;Murreehasamerryghost,and,nowthatshehasbeensweptbycholera,willhaveroomforasorrowfulone;
  thereareOfficers’QuartersinMianMirwhosedoorsopenwithoutreason,andwhosefurnitureisguaranteedtocreak,notwiththeheatofJunebutwiththeweightofInvisibleswhocometoloungeinthechairs;Peshawurpossesseshousesthatnonewillwillinglyrent;andthereissomething——notfever——wrongwithabigbungalowinAllahabad。TheolderProvincessimplybristlewithhauntedhouses,andmarchphantomarmiesalongtheirmainthoroughfares。
  Someofthedak-bungalowsontheGrandTrunkRoadhavehandylittlecemeteriesintheircompound——witnessestothe“changesandchancesofthismortallife“inthedayswhenmendrovefromCalcuttatotheNorthwest。Thesebungalowsareobjectionableplacestoputupin。Theyaregenerallyveryold,alwaysdirty,whilethekhansamahisasancientasthebungalow。Heeitherchatterssenilely,orfallsintothelongtrancesofage。Inbothmoodsheisuseless。
  Ifyougetangrywithhim,hereferstosomeSahibdeadandburiedthesethirtyyears,andsaysthatwhenhewasinthatSahib’sservicenotakhansamahintheProvincecouldtouchhim。Thenhejabbersandmowsandtremblesandfidgetsamongthedishes,andyourepentofyourirritation。
  Inthesedak-bungalows,ghostsaremostlikelytobefound,andwhenfound,theyshouldbemadeanoteof。Notlongagoitwasmybusinesstoliveindak-bungalows。Ineverinhabitedthesamehouseforthreenightsrunning,andgrewtobelearnedinthebreed。IlivedinGovernment-builtoneswithredbrickwallsandrailceilings,aninventoryofthefurniturepostedineveryroom,andanexcitedsnakeatthethresholdtogivewelcome。Ilivedin“converted“ones——oldhousesofficiatingasdak-bungalows——wherenothingwasinitsproperplaceandtherewasn’tevenafowlfordinner。Ilivedinsecond-handpalaceswherethewindblewthroughopen-workmarbletraceryjustasuncomfortablyasthroughabrokenpane。Ilivedindak-bungalowswherethelastentryinthevisitors’bookwasfifteenmonthsold,andwheretheyslashedoffthecurry-kid’sheadwithasword。Itwasmygoodlucktomeetallsortsofmen,fromsobertravelingmissionariesanddesertersflyingfromBritishRegiments,todrunkenloaferswhothrewwhiskybottlesatallwhopassed;andmystillgreatergoodfortunejusttoescapeamaternitycase。Seeingthatafairproportionofthetragedyofourlivesouthereacteditselfindak-bungalows,I
  wonderedthatIhadmetnoghosts。Aghostthatwouldvoluntarilyhangaboutadak-bungalowwouldbemadofcourse;butsomanymenhavediedmadindak-bungalowsthattheremustbeafairpercentageoflunaticghosts。
  InduetimeIfoundmyghost,orghostsrather,forthereweretwoofthem。UptillthathourIhadsympathizedwithMr。Besant’smethodofhandlingthem,asshownin“TheStrangeCaseofMr。
  LucraftandOtherStories。“IamnowintheOpposition。
  WewillcallthebungalowKatmaldak-bungalow。ButTHATwasthesmallestpartofthehorror。Amanwithasensitivehidehasnorighttosleepindak-bungalows。Heshouldmarry。Katmaldak-
  bungalowwasoldandrottenandunrepaired。Thefloorwasofwornbrick,thewallswerefilthy,andthewindowswerenearlyblackwithgrime。ItstoodonabypathlargelyusedbynativeSub-DeputyAssistantsofallkinds,fromFinancetoForests;butrealSahibswererare。Thekhansamah,whowasnearlybentdoublewitholdage,saidso。
  WhenIarrived,therewasafitful,undecidedrainonthefaceoftheland,accompaniedbyarestlesswind,andeverygustmadeanoiseliketherattlingofdrybonesinthestifftoddypalmsoutside。Thekhansamahcompletelylosthisheadonmyarrival。HehadservedaSahibonce。DidIknowthatSahib?Hegavemethenameofawell-knownmanwhohasbeenburiedformorethanaquarterofacentury,andshowedmeanancientdaguerreotypeofthatmaninhisprehistoricyouth。IhadseenasteelengravingofhimattheheadofadoublevolumeofMemoirsamonthbefore,andI
  feltancientbeyondtelling。
  Thedayshutinandthekhansamahwenttogetmefood。Hedidnotgothroughthepretenseofcallingit“khana“——man’svictuals。Hesaid“ratub,“andthatmeans,amongotherthings,“grub“——dog’srations。Therewasnoinsultinhischoiceoftheterm。Hehadforgottentheotherword,Isuppose。
  Whilehewascuttingupthedeadbodiesofanimals,Isettledmyselfdown,afterexploringthedak-bungalow。Therewerethreerooms,besidemyown,whichwasacornerkennel,eachgivingintotheotherthroughdingywhitedoorsfastenedwithlongironbars。
  Thebungalowwasaverysolidone,butthepartitionwallsoftheroomswerealmostjerry-builtintheirflimsiness。Everysteporbangofatrunkechoedfrommyroomdowntheotherthree,andeveryfootfallcamebacktremulouslyfromthefarwalls。ForthisreasonIshutthedoor。Therewerenolamps——onlycandlesinlongglassshades。Anoilwickwassetinthebathroom。
  Forbleak,unadulteratedmiserythatdak-bungalowwastheworstofthemanythatIhadeversetfootin。Therewasnofireplace,andthewindowswouldnotopen;soabrazierofcharcoalwouldhavebeenuseless。Therainandthewindsplashedandgurgledandmoanedroundthehouse,andthetoddypalmsrattledandroared。
  Halfadozenjackalswentthroughthecompoundsinging,andahyenastoodafaroffandmockedthem。AhyenawouldconvinceaSadduceeoftheResurrectionoftheDead——theworstsortofDead。Thencametheratub——acuriousmeal,halfnativeandhalfEnglishincomposition——withtheoldkhansamahbabblingbehindmychairaboutdeadandgoneEnglishpeople,andthewind-blowncandlesplayingshadow-bo-peepwiththebedandthemosquito-curtains。Itwasjustthesortofdinnerandeveningtomakeamanthinkofeverysingleoneofhispastsins,andofalltheothersthatheintendedtocommitifhelived。
  Sleep,forseveralhundredreasons,wasnoteasy。Thelampinthebath-roomthrewthemostabsurdshadowsintotheroom,andthewindwasbeginningtotalknonsense。
  Justwhenthereasonsweredrowsywithblood-suckingIheardtheregular——“Let——us——take——and——heave——him——over“gruntofdoolie-
  bearersinthecompound。Firstonedooliecamein,thenasecond,andthenathird。Iheardthedooliesdumpedontheground,andtheshutterinfrontofmydoorshook。“That’ssomeonetryingtocomein,“Isaid。Butnoonespoke,andIpersuadedmyselfthatitwasthegustywind。Theshutteroftheroomnexttominewasattacked,flungback,andtheinnerdooropened。“That’ssomeSub-
  DeputyAssistant,“Isaid,“andhehasbroughthisfriendswithhim。Nowthey’lltalkandspitandsmokeforanhour。“
  Buttherewerenovoicesandnofootsteps。Noonewasputtinghisluggageintothenextroom。Thedoorshut,andIthankedProvidencethatIwastobeleftinpeace。ButIwascurioustoknowwherethedoolieshadgone。Igotoutofbedandlookedintothedarkness。Therewasneverasignofadoolie。JustasIwasgettingintobedagain,Iheard,inthenextroom,thesoundthatnomaninhissensescanpossiblymistake——thewhirofabilliardballdownthelengthoftheslateswhenthestrikerisstringingforbreak。Noothersoundislikeit。Aminuteafterwardstherewasanotherwhir,andIgotintobed。Iwasnotfrightened——indeedIwasnot。Iwasverycurioustoknowwhathadbecomeofthedoolies。Ijumpedintobedforthatreason。
  NextminuteIheardthedoubleclickofacannonandmyhairsatup。Itisamistaketosaythathairstandsup。Theskinoftheheadtightensandyoucanfeelafaint,prickly,bristlingalloverthescalp。Thatisthehairsittingup。
  Therewasawhirandaclick,andbothsoundscouldonlyhavebeenmadebyonething——abilliardball。Iarguedthematteroutatgreatlengthwithmyself;andthemoreIarguedthelessprobableitseemedthatonebed,onetable,andtwochairs——allthefurnitureoftheroomnexttomine——couldsoexactlyduplicatethesoundsofagameofbilliards。Afteranothercannon,athree-
  cushiononetojudgebythewhir,Iarguednomore。Ihadfoundmyghostandwouldhavegivenworldstohaveescapedfromthatdak-
  bungalow。Ilistened,andwitheachlistenthegamegrewclearer。
  Therewaswhironwhirandclickonclick。Sometimestherewasadoubleclickandawhirandanotherclick。Beyondanysortofdoubt,peoplewereplayingbilliardsinthenextroom。Andthenextroomwasnotbigenoughtoholdabilliardtable!
  BetweenthepausesofthewindIheardthegamegoforward——strokeafterstroke。ItriedtobelievethatIcouldnothearvoices;butthatattemptwasafailure。
  Doyouknowwhatfearis?Notordinaryfearofinsult,injuryordeath,butabject,quiveringdreadofsomethingthatyoucannotsee——fearthatdriestheinsideofthemouthandhalfofthethroat——fearthatmakesyousweatonthepalmsofthehands,andgulpinordertokeeptheuvulaatwork?ThisisafineFear——agreatcowardice,andmustbefelttobeappreciated。Theveryimprobabilityofbilliardsinadak-bungalowprovedtherealityofthething。Noman——drunkorsober——couldimagineagameatbilliards,orinventthespittingcrackofa“screw-cannon。“
  Aseverecourseofdak-bungalowshasthisdisadvantage——itbreedsinfinitecredulity。Ifamansaidtoaconfirmeddak-bungalow-