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56 pages

English

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Settle in for a creepy read from the remarkable mind of expert mystery writer Anna Katharine Green. In "The House in the Mist," a road-weary traveler happens upon a beautiful house in the woods and, thinking it might be an inn or a lodging house, ventures to the front door to inquire about the possibility of renting a room. From that point, the story takes a completely unexpected turn that even the most well-versed mystery fan will never see coming. Don't miss this pulse-pounding read from one of the masters of the genre.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 avril 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775452096
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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THE HOUSE IN THE MIST
AND THE RUBY AND THE CALDRON
* * *
ANNA KATHERINE GREEN

*

The House in the Mist And the Ruby and the Caldron First published in 1905 ISBN 978-1-775452-09-6 © 2011 The Floating Press While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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THE HOUSE IN THE MIST I - An Open Door II - With My Ear to the Wainscoting III - A Life Drama IV - The Final Shock THE RUBY AND THE CALDRON
THE HOUSE IN THE MIST
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I - An Open Door
*
It was a night to drive any man indoors. Not only was the darknessimpenetrable, but the raw mist enveloping hill and valley made the openroad anything but desirable to a belated wayfarer like myself.
Being young, untrammeled, and naturally indifferent to danger, I was notaverse to adventure; and having my fortune to make, was always on thelook-out for El Dorado, which, to ardent souls, lies ever beyond thenext turning. Consequently, when I saw a light shimmering through themist at my right, I resolved to make for it and the shelter it soopportunely offered.
But I did not realize then, as I do now, that shelter does notnecessarily imply refuge, or I might not have undertaken this adventurewith so light a heart. Yet, who knows? The impulses of an unfetteredspirit lean toward daring, and youth, as I have said, seeks the strange,the unknown and, sometimes, the terrible.
My path toward this light was by no means an easy one. After confusedwanderings through tangled hedges, and a struggle with obstacles ofwhose nature I received the most curious impression in the surroundingmurk, I arrived in front of a long, low building which, to myastonishment, I found standing with doors and windows open to thepervading mist, save for one square casement through which the lightshone from a row of candles placed on a long mahogany table.
The quiet and seeming emptiness of this odd and picturesque buildingmade me pause. I am not much affected by visible danger, but this silentroom, with its air of sinister expectancy, struck me most unpleasantly,and I was about to reconsider my first impulse and withdraw again to theroad, when a second look, thrown back upon the comfortable interior Iwas leaving, convinced me of my folly and sent me straight toward thedoor which stood so invitingly open.
But half-way up the path, my progress was again stayed by the sight of aman issuing from the house I had so rashly looked upon as devoid of allhuman presence. He seemed in haste and, at the moment my eye first fellon him, was engaged in replacing his watch in his pocket.
But he did not shut the door behind him, which I thought odd, especiallyas his final glance had been a backward one, and seemed to take in allthe appointments of the place he was so hurriedly leaving.
As we met, he raised his hat. This likewise struck me as peculiar, forthe deference he displayed was more marked than that usually bestowed onstrangers, while his lack of surprise at an encounter more or lessstartling in such a mist was calculated to puzzle an ordinary man likemyself. Indeed, he was so little impressed by my presence there that hewas for passing me without a word or any other hint of good fellowship,save the bow of which I have spoken. But this did not suit me. I washungry, cold, and eager for creature comforts, and the house before megave forth not only heat, but a savory odor which in itself was aninvitation hard to ignore. I therefore accosted the man.
"Will bed and supper be provided me here?" I asked. "I am tired out witha long tramp over the hills, and hungry enough to pay anything inreason—"
I stopped, for the man had disappeared. He had not paused at my appealand the mist had swallowed him. But at the break in my sentence, hisvoice came back in good-natured tones and I heard:
"Supper will be ready at nine, and there are beds for all. Enter, sir;you are the first to arrive, but the others can not be far behind."
A queer greeting, certainly. But when I strove to question him as to itsmeaning, his voice returned to me from such a distance that I doubted ifmy words had reached him with any more distinctness than his answerreached me.
"Well!" thought I, "it isn't as if a lodging had been denied me. Heinvited me to enter, and enter I will."
The house, to which I now naturally directed a glance of much morecareful scrutiny than before, was no ordinary farm-building, but arambling old mansion, made conspicuously larger here and there byjutting porches and more than one convenient lean-to. Though furnished,warmed and lighted with candles, as I have previously described, it hadabout it an air of disuse which made me feel myself an intruder, inspite of the welcome I had received. But I was not in a position tostand upon ceremony, and ere long I found myself inside the great roomand before the blazing logs whose glow had lighted up the doorway andadded its own attraction to the other allurements of the inviting place.
Though the open door made a draft which was anything but pleasant, I didnot feel like closing it, and was astonished to observe the effect ofthe mist through the square thus left open to the night. It was not anagreeable one, and, instinctively turning my back upon that quarter ofthe room, I let my eyes roam over the wainscoted walls and the oddpieces of furniture which gave such an air of old-fashioned richness tothe place. As nothing of the kind had ever fallen under my eyes before,I should have thoroughly enjoyed this opportunity of gratifying my tastefor the curious and the beautiful, if the quaint old chairs I sawstanding about me on every side had not all been empty. But the solitudeof the place, so much more oppressive than the solitude of the road Ihad left, struck cold to my heart, and I missed the cheer rightfullybelonging to such attractive surroundings. Suddenly I bethought me ofthe many other apartments likely to be found in so spacious a dwelling,and going to the nearest door, I opened it and called out for the masterof the house. But only an echo came back, and, returning to the fire, Isat down before the cheering blaze, in quiet acceptance of a situationtoo lonely for comfort, yet not without a certain piquant interest for aman of free mind and adventurous disposition like myself.
After all, if supper was to be served at nine, someone must be expectedto eat it: I should surely not be left much longer without companions.
Meanwhile ample amusement awaited me in the contemplation of a picturewhich, next to the large fireplace, was the most prominent object in theroom. This picture was a portrait, and a remarkable one. The countenanceit portrayed was both characteristic and forcible, and so interested methat in studying it I quite forgot both hunger and weariness. Indeed itseffect upon me was such that, after gazing at it uninterruptedly for afew minutes, I discovered that its various features—the narrow eyes inwhich a hint of craft gave a strange gleam to their native intelligence;the steadfast chin, strong as the rock of the hills I had wearilytramped all day; the cunning wrinkles which yet did not interfere witha latent great-heartedness that made the face as attractive as it waspuzzling—had so established themselves in my mind that I continued tosee them before me whichever way I turned, and found it impossible toshake off their influence even after I had resolutely set my mind inanother direction by endeavoring to recall what I knew of the town intowhich I had strayed.
I had come from Scranton and was now, according to my best judgment, inone of those rural districts of western Pennsylvania which breed suchstrange and sturdy characters. But of this special neighborhood, itsinhabitants and its industries, I knew nothing nor was likely to, solong as I remained in the solitude I have endeavored to describe.
But these impressions and these thoughts—if thoughts theywere—presently received a check. A loud "Halloo" rose from somewhere inthe mist, followed by a string of muttered imprecations, which convincedme that the person now attempting to approach the house was encounteringsome of the many difficulties which had beset me in the sameundertaking a few minutes before.
I therefore raised my voice and shouted out, "Here! this way!" afterwhich I sat still and awaited developments.
There was a huge clock in one of the corners, whose loud tick filled upevery interval of silence. By this clock it was just ten minutes toeight when two gentlemen (I should say men, and coarse men at that)crossed the open threshold and entered the house.
Their appearance was more or less noteworthy—unpleasantly so, I amobliged to add. One was red-faced and obese, the other was tall, thinand wiry and showed as many seams in his face as a blighted apple.Neither of the two had anything to recommend him either in appearance oraddress, save a certain veneer of polite assumption as transparent as itwas offensive. As I listened to the forced sallies of the one and thehollow laugh of the other, I was glad that I was large of frame andstrong of arm and used to all kinds of men and—brutes.
As these two new-comers seemed no more astonished at my presence thanthe man I had met at the gate, I checked the question whichinstinctively rose to my lips and with a simple bow,—responded to by amore or less familiar nod from either,—accepted the situation with allthe sang-froid the occasion seemed to demand. Perhaps this was wise,perhaps it was not; there was little opportunity to judge, for the startthey both gave as