The Argosy — page 237: what you’re looking at

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

222 The Channel Islands. upstairs room was illumined by a blaze of blue light. A mys- terious, unearthly-looking object, with horns and a tail, was seen cramming a struggling victim into a sack. ‘This done, he tied it up securely with string, threw the burden over his back, and disap- peared from mortal view. It was a very thrilling and delicious story, clothed in the simple, straightforward language of the driver. He evidently believed in it as he believed in his own existence. In vain we rattled the door and tried the shutters; they would not move, and we had to content our curlosity with the mere outside of the grey and gloomy walls. Very possibly the interior was parched and black and singed; we even thought we smelt sulphur through the keyhole; but imagination will sometimes run away with us, and I should not like to affirm the latter conviction too strongly. As a faithful servant of twenty years’ standing remarked some time ago in a court of justice, when re- quested to give positive evidence against a heartless wretch who had entered her pantry in broad daylight and made off with the plate- basket: ‘‘ I am quite certain he’s the man: but I won’t swear to he.” One thing, at any rate, we could affirm—the fineness of the rocks just beyond the haunted house. They were high and bold, and shelved down to the sea with a precipitancy beyond our daring. Perhaps if we had had more time we might have found more courage. As it was, we contented ourselves with gazing into the depths, and looking down upon the plashing water that surged and broke and foamed and frothed at the foot of the rugged cliffs. Mushrooms grew in abundance, but we left them for other hands to gather. We said good-bye to the cliffs and the ghost-haunted ground. The driver galloped over the smooth turf, and swept round by the coast. We gradually came down to sea level, and presently reached L’Erée, an inn where lunch was provided. ‘The landlady was so civil, obliging and good-tempered, that I believe she would have roasted and served up herself for us, had we only been can- nibals. But, as she truly observed, no one’s resources were abso- lutely unlimited; and last night she had had a dance at her inn. About a hundred couples had taken advantage of the moonlight and come: out from St. Peter Port. It was quite a frequent occurrence. They kept it up until one or two in the morning, and then went back to “town,” ‘But why,” we asked innocently: “*why come so far for a dance? Why not hire a room in the town and have it there, in a quiet, rational manner ?” ‘Oh, sir,” cried the landlady, with an arch expression, “the moon- light—and the walk—and the pairing off into couples—think how much they would lose—the spirit and essence of the evening would be gone—youth and beauty, you know, sir.” We knew nothing: had no sympathy whatever in the matter. We Eomichbooks.co m