apply to trinkets as well as to land, and it is quite clear to me that
these jewels are, or should be, heirlooms in your family. I must beg
you, accordingly, to take them to London with you, and to regard them
simply as a portion of your property which has been restored to you
under certain strange conditions. As for my daughter, she is merely a
child, and has as yet, I am glad to say, but little interest in such
appurtenances of idle luxury. I am also informed by Mrs. Otis, who, I
may say, is no mean authority upon Art,--having had the privilege of
spending several winters in Boston when she was a girl,--that these gems
are of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale would fetch a tall
price. Under these circumstances, Lord Canterville, I feel sure that you
will recognize how impossible it would be for me to allow them to remain
in the possession of any member of my family; and, indeed, all such vain
gauds and toys, however suitable or necessary to the dignity of the
British aristocracy, would be completely out of place among those who
have been brought up on the severe, and I believe immortal, principles
of Republican simplicity. Perhaps I should mention that Virginia is very
anxious that you should allow her to retain the box, as a memento of
your unfortunate but misguided ancestor. As it is extremely old, and
consequently a good deal out of repair, you may perhaps think fit to
comply with her request. For my own part, I confess I am a good deal
surprised to find a child of mine expressing sympathy with medievalism
in any form, and can only account for it by the fact that Virginia was
born in one of your London suburbs shortly after Mrs. Otis had returned
from a trip to Athens."
Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the worthy Minister's speech,
pulling his gray moustache now and then to hide an involuntary smile,
and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially by the hand, and
said: "My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unlucky
ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and I and my family are
much indebted to her for her marvelous courage and pluck. The jewels are
clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were heartless enough to
take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his grave in a
fortnight, leading me the devil of a life. As for their being heirlooms,
nothing is an heirloom that is not so mentioned in a will or legal
document, and the existence of these jewels has been quite unknown. I
assure you I have no more claim on them than your butler, and when Miss
Virginia grows up, I dare say she will be pleased to have pretty things
to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took the furniture and
the ghost at a valuation, and anything that belonged to the ghost passed
at once into your possession, as, whatever activity Sir Simon may have
shown in the corridor at night, in point of law he was really dead, and
you acquired his property by purchase."
Mr. Otis was a good deal distressed at Lord Canterville's refusal, and
begged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer was
quite firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter to
retain the present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of
1890, the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's first
drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage her jewels were the
universal theme of admiration. For Virginia received the coronet, which
is the reward of all good little American girls, and was married to her
boy-lover as soon as he came of age. They were both so charming, and
they loved each other so much, that everyone was delighted at the match,
except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had tried to catch the Duke
for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had given no less than
three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and, strange to say,
Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke
personally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use his
own words, "was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervating
influences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles of
Republican simplicity should be forgotten." His objections, however,
were completely over-ruled, and I believe that when he walked up the
aisle of St. George's, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on his
arm, there was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth of
England.
The Duke and Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down to
Canterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked over
in the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pinewoods. There had
been a great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on Sir
Simon's tombstone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on it
simply the initials of the old gentleman's name, and the verse from the
library window. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses,
which she strewed upon the grave, and after they had stood by it for
some time they strolled into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There
the Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her husband lay at her
feet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly
he threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand, and said to her,
"Virginia, a wife should have no secrets from her husband."
"Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you."
"Yes, you have," he answered, smiling, "you have never told me what
happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost."
"I have never told anyone, Cecil," said Virginia, gravely.
"I know that, but you might tell me."
"Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owe
him a great deal. Yes, don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see
what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than
both."
The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.
"You can have your secret as long as I have your heart," he murmured.
"You have always had that, Cecil."
"And you will tell our children some day, won't you?"
Virginia blushed.
THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER
BY GELETT BURGESS
From the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_, April, 1905. By permission of John
Brisben Walker and Gelett Burgess.
The Ghost-Extinguisher
BY GELETT BURGESS
My attention was first called to the possibility of manufacturing a
practicable ghost-extinguisher by a real-estate agent in San Francisco.
"There's one thing," he said, "that affects city property here in a
curious way. You know we have a good many murders, and, as a
consequence, certain houses attain a very sensational and undesirable
reputation. These houses it is almost impossible to let; you can
scarcely get a decent family to occupy them rent-free. Then we have a
great many places said to be haunted. These were dead timber on my hands
until I happened to notice that the Japanese have no objections to
spooks. Now, whenever I have such a building to rent, I let it to Japs
at a nominal figure, and after they've taken the curse off, I raise the
rent, the Japs move out, the place is renovated, and in the market
again."
The subject interested me, for I am not only a scientist, but a
speculative philosopher as well. The investigation of those phenomena
that lie upon the threshold of the great unknown has always been my
favorite field of research. I believed, even then, that the Oriental
mind, working along different lines than those which we pursue, has
attained knowledge that we know little of. Thinking, therefore, that
these Japs might have some secret inherited from their misty past, I
examined into the matter.
I shall not trouble you with a narration of the incidents which led up
to my acquaintance with Hoku Yamanochi. Suffice it to say that I found
in him a friend who was willing to share with me his whole lore of
quasi-science. I call it this advisedly, for science, as we Occidentals
use the term, has to do only with the laws of matter and sensation; our
scientific men, in fact, recognize the existence of nothing else. The
Buddhistic philosophy, however, goes further.
According to its theories, the soul is sevenfold, consisting of
different shells or envelopes--something like an onion--which are shed
as life passes from the material to the spiritual state. The first, or
lowest, of these is the corporeal body, which, after death, decays and
perishes. Next comes the vital principle, which, departing from the
body, dissipates itself like an odor, and is lost. Less gross than this
is the astral body, which, although immaterial, yet lies near to the
consistency of matter. This astral shape, released from the body at
death, remains for a while in its earthly environment, still preserving
more or less definitely the imprint of the form which it inhabited.
It is this relic of a past material personality, this outworn shell,
that appears, when galvanized into an appearance of life, partly
materialized, as a ghost. It is not the soul that returns, for the soul,
which is immortal, is composed of the four higher spiritual essences
that surround the ego, and are carried on into the next life. These
astral bodies, therefore, fail to terrify the Buddhists, who know them
only as shadows, with no real volition. The Japs, in point of fact, have
learned how to exterminate them.
There is a certain powder, Hoku informed me, which, when burnt in their
presence, transforms them from the rarefied, or semi-spiritual,
condition to the state of matter. The ghost, so to speak, is
precipitated into and becomes a material shape which can easily be
disposed of. In this state it is confined and allowed to disintegrate
slowly where it can cause no further annoyance.
This long-winded explanation piqued my curiosity, which was not to be
satisfied until I had seen the Japanese method applied. It was not long
before I had an opportunity. A particularly revolting murder having been
committed in San Francisco, my friend Hoku Yamanochi applied for the
house, and, after the police had finished their examination, he was
permitted to occupy it for a half-year at the ridiculous price of three
dollars a month. He invited me to share his quarters, which were large
and luxuriously furnished.
For a week, nothing abnormal occurred. Then, one night, I was awakened
by terrifying groans followed by a blood-curdling shriek which seemed
to emerge from a large closet in my room, the scene of the late
atrocity. I confess that I had all the covers pulled over my head and
was shivering with horror when my Japanese friend entered, wearing a
pair of flowered-silk pajamas. Hearing his voice, I peeped forth, to see
him smiling reassuringly.
"You some kind of very foolish fellow," he said. "I show you how to fix
him!"
He took from his pocket three conical red pastils, placed them upon a
saucer and lighted them. Then, holding the fuming dish in one
outstretched hand, he walked to the closed door and opened it. The
shrieks burst out afresh, and, as I recalled the appalling details of
the scene which had occurred in this very room only five weeks ago, I
shuddered at his temerity. But he was quite calm.
Soon, I saw the wraith-like form of the recent victim dart from the
closet. She crawled under my bed and ran about the room, endeavoring to
escape, but was pursued by Hoku, who waved his smoking plate with
indefatigable patience and dexterity.
At last he had her cornered, and the specter was caught behind a curtain
of odorous fumes. Slowly the figure grew more distinct, assuming the
consistency of a heavy vapor, shrinking somewhat in the operation. Hoku
now hurriedly turned to me.
"You hully up, bling me one pair bellows pletty quick!" he commanded.
I ran into his room and brought the bellows from his fireplace. These
he pressed flat, and then carefully inserting one toe of the ghost into
the nozzle and opening the handles steadily, he sucked in a portion of
the unfortunate woman's anatomy, and dexterously squirted the vapor into
a large jar, which had been placed in the room for the purpose. Two more
operations were necessary to withdraw the phantom completely from the
corner and empty it into the jar. At last the transfer was effected and
the receptacle securely stoppered and sealed.
"In formeryore-time," Hoku explained to me, "old pliests sucked ghost
with mouth and spit him to inside of vase with acculacy. Modern-time
method more better for stomach and epiglottis."
"How long will this ghost keep?" I inquired.
"Oh, about four, five hundled years, maybe," was his reply. "Ghost now
change from spilit to matter, and comes under legality of matter as
usual science."
"What are you going to do with her?" I asked.
"Send him to Buddhist temple in Japan. Old pliest use him for high
celemony," was the answer.
My next desire was to obtain some of Hoku Yamanochi's ghost-powder and
analyze it. For a while it defied my attempts, but, after many months of
patient research, I discovered that it could be produced, in all its
essential qualities, by means of a fusion of formaldehyde and
hypophenyltrybrompropionic acid in an electrified vacuum. With this
product I began a series of interesting experiments.
As it became necessary for me to discover the habitat of ghosts in
considerable numbers, I joined the American Society for Psychical
Research, thus securing desirable information in regard to haunted
houses. These I visited persistently, until my powder was perfected and
had been proved efficacious for the capture of any ordinary house-broken
phantom. For a while I contented myself with the mere sterilization of
these specters, but, as I became surer of success, I began to attempt
the transfer of ghosts to receptacles wherein they could be transported
and studied at my leisure, classified and preserved for future
reference.
Hoku's bellows I soon discarded in favor of a large-sized bicycle-pump,
and eventually I had constructed one of my own, of a pattern which
enabled me to inhale an entire ghost at a single stroke. With this
powerful instrument I was able to compress even an adult life-sized
ghost into a two-quart bottle, in the neck of which a sensitive valve
(patented) prevented the specter from emerging during process.
My invention was not yet, however, quite satisfactory. While I had no
trouble in securing ghosts of recent creation--spirits, that is, who
were yet of almost the consistency of matter--on several of my trips
abroad in search of material I found in old manor houses or ruined
castles many specters so ancient that they had become highly rarefied
and tenuous, being at times scarcely visible to the naked eye. Such
elusive spirits are able to pass through walls and elude pursuit with
ease. It became necessary for me to obtain some instrument by which
their capture could be conveniently effected.
The ordinary fire-extinguisher of commerce gave me the hint as to how
the problem could be solved. One of these portable hand-instruments I
filled with the proper chemicals. When inverted, the ingredients were
commingled in vacuo and a vast volume of gas was liberated. This was
collected in the reservoir provided with a rubber tube having a nozzle
at the end. The whole apparatus being strapped upon my back, I was
enabled to direct a stream of powerful precipitating gas in any desired
direction, the flow being under control through the agency of a small
stopcock. By means of this ghost-extinguisher I was enabled to pursue my
experiments as far as I desired.
So far my investigations had been purely scientific, but before long the
commercial value of my discovery began to interest me. The ruinous
effects of spectral visitations upon real estate induced me to realize
some pecuniary reward from my ghost-extinguisher, and I began to
advertise my business. By degrees, I became known as an expert in my
original line, and my professional services were sought with as much
confidence as those of a veterinary surgeon. I manufactured the Gerrish
Ghost-Extinguisher in several sizes, and put it on the market, following
this venture with the introduction of my justly celebrated Gerrish
Ghost-Grenades. These hand-implements were made to be kept in racks
conveniently distributed in country houses for cases of sudden
emergency. A single grenade, hurled at any spectral form, would, in
breaking, liberate enough formaldybrom to coagulate the most perverse
spirit, and the resulting vapor could easily be removed from the room by
a housemaid with a common broom.
This branch of my business, however, never proved profitable, for the
appearance of ghosts, especially in the United States, is seldom
anticipated. Had it been possible for me to invent a preventive as well
as a remedy, I might now be a millionaire; but there are limits even to
modern science.
Having exhausted the field at home, I visited England in the hope of
securing customers among the country families there. To my surprise, I
discovered that the possession of a family specter was considered as a
permanent improvement to the property, and my offers of service in
ridding houses of ghostly tenants awakened the liveliest resentment. As
a layer of ghosts I was much lower in the social scale than a layer of
carpets.
Disappointed and discouraged, I returned home to make a further study of
the opportunities of my invention. I had, it seemed, exhausted the
possibilities of the use of unwelcome phantoms. Could I not, I thought,
derive a revenue from the traffic in desirable specters? I decided to
renew my investigations.
The nebulous spirits preserved in my laboratory, which I had graded and
classified, were, you will remember, in a state of suspended animation.
They were, virtually, embalmed apparitions, their inevitable decay
delayed, rather than prevented. The assorted ghosts that I had now
preserved in hermetically sealed tins were thus in a state of unstable
equilibrium. The tins once opened and the vapor allowed to dissipate,
the original astral body would in time be reconstructed and the
warmed-over specter would continue its previous career. But this
process, when naturally performed, took years. The interval was quite
too long for the phantom to be handled in any commercial way. My problem
was, therefore, to produce from my tinned Essence of Ghost a specter
that was capable of immediately going into business and that could haunt
a house while you wait.
It was not until radium was discovered that I approached the solution of
my great problem, and even then months of indefatigable labor were
necessary before the process was perfected. It has now been well
demonstrated that the emanations of radiant energy sent forth by this
surprising element defy our former scientific conceptions of the
constitution of matter. It was for me to prove that the vibratory
activity of radium (whose amplitudes and intensity are undoubtedly
four-dimensional) effects a sort of allotropic modification in the
particles of that imponderable ether which seems to lie halfway between
matter and pure spirit. This is as far as I need to go in my
explanation, for a full discussion involves the use of quaternions and
the method of least squares. It will be sufficient for the layman to
know that my preserved phantoms, rendered radio-active, would, upon
contact with the air, resume their spectral shape.
The possible extension of my business now was enormous, limited only by
the difficulty in collecting the necessary stock. It was by this time
almost as difficult to get ghosts as it was to get radium. Finding that
a part of my stock had spoiled, I was now possessed of only a few dozen
cans of apparitions, many of these being of inferior quality. I
immediately set about replenishing my raw material. It was not enough
for me to pick up a ghost here and there, as one might get old mahogany;
I determined to procure my phantoms in wholesale lots.
Accident favored my design. In an old volume of _Blackwood's Magazine_ I
happened, one day, to come across an interesting article upon the battle
of Waterloo. It mentioned, incidentally, a legend to the effect that
every year, upon the anniversary of the celebrated victory, spectral
squadrons had been seen by the peasants charging battalions of ghostly
grenadiers. Here was my opportunity.
I made elaborate preparations for the capture of this job lot of
phantoms upon the next anniversary of the fight. Hard by the fatal ditch
which engulfed Napoleon's cavalry I stationed a corps of able
assistants provided with rapid-fire extinguishers ready to enfilade the
famous sunken road. I stationed myself with a No. 4 model magazine-hose,
with a four-inch nozzle, directly in the path which I knew would be
taken by the advancing squadron.
It was a fine, clear night, lighted, at first, by a slice of new moon;
but later, dark, except for the pale illumination of the stars. I have
seen many ghosts in my time--ghosts in garden and garret, at noon, at
dusk, at dawn, phantoms fanciful, and specters sad and spectacular--but
never have I seen such an impressive sight as this nocturnal charge of
cuirassiers, galloping in goblin glory to their time-honored doom. From
afar the French reserves presented the appearance of a nebulous mass,
like a low-lying cloud or fog-bank, faintly luminous, shot with
fluorescent gleams. As the squadron drew nearer in its desperate charge,
the separate forms of the troopers shaped themselves, and the galloping
guardsmen grew ghastly with supernatural splendor.
Although I knew them to be immaterial and without mass or weight, I was
terrified at their approach, fearing to be swept under the hoofs of the
nightmares they rode. Like one in a dream, I started to run, but in
another instant they were upon me, and I turned on my stream of
formaldybrom. Then I was overwhelmed in a cloud-burst of wild warlike
wraiths.
The column swept past me, over the bank, plunging to its historic fate.
The cut was piled full of frenzied, scrambling specters, as rank after
rank swept down into the horrid gut. At last the ditch swarmed full of
writhing forms and the carnage was dire.
My assistants with the extinguishers stood firm, and although almost
unnerved by the sight, they summoned their courage, and directed
simultaneous streams of formaldybrom into the struggling mass of
fantoms. As soon as my mind returned, I busied myself with the huge
tanks I had prepared for use as receivers. These were fitted with a
mechanism similar to that employed in portable forges, by which the
heavy vapor was sucked off. Luckily the night was calm, and I was
enabled to fill a dozen cylinders with the precipitated ghosts. The
segregation of individual forms was, of course, impossible, so that men
and horses were mingled in a horrible mixture of fricasseed spirits. I
intended subsequently to empty the soup into a large reservoir and allow
the separate specters to reform according to the laws of spiritual
cohesion.
Circumstances, however, prevented my ever accomplishing this result. I
returned home, to find awaiting me an order so large and important that
I had no time in which to operate upon my cylinders of cavalry.
My patron was the proprietor of a new sanatorium for nervous invalids,
located near some medicinal springs in the Catskills. His building was
unfortunately located, having been built upon the site of a once-famous
summer hotel, which, while filled with guests, had burnt to the ground,
scores of lives having been lost. Just before the patients were to be
installed in the new structure, it was found that the place was haunted
by the victims of the conflagration to a degree that rendered it
inconvenient as a health resort. My professional services were
requested, therefore, to render the building a fitting abode for
convalescents. I wrote to the proprietor, fixing my charge at five
thousand dollars. As my usual rate was one hundred dollars per ghost,
and over a hundred lives were lost at the fire, I considered this price
reasonable, and my offer was accepted.
The sanatorium job was finished in a week. I secured one hundred and two
superior spectral specimens, and upon my return to the laboratory, put
them up in heavily embossed tins with attractive labels in colors.