Ghostly Footstep

Ghostly Footsteps By Jessie Middleton © 2008by http://www.HorrorMasters.com

A correspondent at Weymouth has sent me some very interesting experiences, gathered from her own knowledge. She writes: “Some years ago I was staying in an old house in the north to which had been added a new wing, which was principally used by the family. I was given one of the large bedrooms, which at sunrise was flooded with sunshine. Being a bad sleeper, and unable to bear much light in my room, I moved into a small room in the old part of the house which was reached by a connecting staircase, and, having endured several wakeful nights, when bedtime arrived I went off joyfully to my small den, thinking I was going to get a good night’s rest at last. “But alas for my expectations! The room I chose was the first on a corridor with an oak staircase at my end of it, and no sooner had I settled off to sleep than I was aroused by footsteps coming slowly up this, with the clear tap of high-heeled shoes. “I knew there could be no one moving about at that hour, so roused myself to listen. The footsteps came nearer, and then I also heard distinctly the frou-frou of silk draperies. To my alarm they turned into my corridor and slowly passed my door; then, after walking to the end, began to return. I regret to say I was too much alarmed to wait for more, but called loudly to the occupant of the room opposite—the cook—who came across. Unfortunately, she was deaf, so had heard nothing, but I would not remain longer in that part of the house. Accompanied by her, therefore, I returned to the other wing, where I spent the remainder of the night undisturbed. A day or two afterwards my own maid arrived, and knowing her to be a strong, sensible young person, not at all given to imagination, I put her in this room, in order to test the truth of my experience, of which, of course, she knew nothing. “The next day when she came into my room with my morning tea, she told me of her experiences, which were the same as my own, and she refused to sleep there again. I made many inquiries, but no one seemed able to tell me anything, except that the house had been vacant for many years, and that the former occupant, who built the new wing on to it and had greatly improved it, remained only a short while.” *** “Once, when I had occasion to go up to London for a few days with my nurse and little boy, I stayed in rooms at no great distance from Kensington Gardens. “One night I was awakened by footsteps coming along the passage outside, followed by the sound of a chain being dragged along. I was very frightened, and knowing I was alone on that landing and that the door between the sitting-room and bedroom was unlocked, I listened in dread, hoping the footsteps would go upstairs, but to my horror I heard the sitting-room door slowly pushed open, and, whatever it was, entered, dragging the chain after. Slowly it walked round the table, and just as I expected to hear the communicating door open, I heard it sink into a basket chair which was placed against it.

“How long it remained there I don’t know, but at last there was a movement as of slowly rising, and to my intense relief I heard the footsteps reach the door, followed by the dragging sound of a chain, go slowly through it and retrace its way along the passage. “I don’t know what this could have been, but it was not an animal of any description, and the footsteps were human. Of course, when I interviewed the landlady the next day she declared it was impossible; no one was in the house but her husband and self. However, I was quite sure of what had occurred, so did not prolong my stay.”