The Argosy — page 225: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ss . Tt oe ’ ~ 208 The Tenant of The Cedars. “T am fond of my owncompany,” I said, smiling. ‘I am never bored when alone.” He glanced at me with languid curiosity. ‘‘ Really. H’m—I can’t say as much. I think in your place I should be ready to fraternise with Underwood—bear as he is—in default of other society.” ‘Underwood and I are very good friends, Sir Philip. I find he improves on acquaintance.” “There is room for improvement,” was his comment. ‘“ By the way,” he continued, knocking the ash from his cigar, ‘‘I should very much like to know whether he is the author of an absurd report which has only lately reached my ears—that The Cedars is haunted. It struck me that it might be an ingenious device of his to keep tenants away.” I shook my head. ‘I am quite sure that he has never told—lI mean that he has never spread such a report.” He turned and looked at me. ‘‘ You seem to think there is some truth in it,” he remarked. I felt no inclination to take him into my confidence, and stooped to stroke his dog without replying. ‘“Am I to conclude from your silence that you do ?” he persisted, with an ironical smile. ‘‘ Come, Mr. Wilford, you don’t mean to tell me that you, a man of the world, and a lawyer to boot, actually believe in ghosts ? ” I hesitated a moment, then looked up. ‘‘I believe in the evidence of my own senses,” I said quietly. “You excite my curiosity,” he sneered. ‘‘ What uncanny thing have you seen, I wonder P” ‘“T have seen nothing; it is a sound which haunts the house.” ‘‘A sound ?” he repeated, with a quick change of tone. ‘* What sort of sound ?” ‘““A voice,” I said, slowly. ‘‘ The voice of the ill-fated girl who met her death beneath its roof.” The cigar fell from his hand. ‘‘Good heavens!” he breathed. “What do you mean? It is not ——” “Yes, Sir Philip ; it is the voice of Léonie Lestelle. I have heard her singing as plainly as I heard you speak just then.” He looked at me blankly, the colour fading from his face, and his dark eyes dilating till they seemed all pupil. Recovering himself, however, he stooped to pick up his cigar, and burst intoa scornful laugh. ‘“* Preposterous ! you must have been dreaming, or else it Is some trick of Underwood’s.” ‘Could Underwood imitate such a voice as hers? Besides has heard it himself. It has haunted him for the last two years.” Sir Philip drew in his lips, and was silenta moment. ‘ That is strange,” he said, at length. ‘Why should it haunt him, of all he comicbooks.com