The Big Book of Sherlock Holmes Stories (104 page)

“Phillimore assured me that the first lord of Tullyfane had not even been a direct ancestor of his, but that his great-grandfather had purchased Tullyfane Abbey when the owner, concerned at the imminent prospect of departing this life on his fiftieth birthday, decided to sell and depart for healthier climes in England. This sleight of hand of ownership had not prevented Jack's great-grandfather, General Phillimore, from falling off his horse and breaking his neck on his fiftieth birthday. Jack's grandfather, a redoubtable judge, was shot on his fiftieth
birthday. The local inspector of the Royal Irish Constabulary had assumed that his untimely demise could be ascribed more to his profession than to the paranormal. Judges and policemen often experienced sudden terminations to their careers in a country where they were considered part of the colonial occupation by ordinary folk.

“ ‘I presume your father, Colonel James Phillimore, is now approaching his fiftieth birthday and hence his alarm?' I asked Phillimore as the train rolled through the Tipperary countryside toward the Kerry border.

“Phillimore nodded slowly.

“ ‘My sister has, in her letters, written that she has heard the specter crying at night. She reports that my father has even witnessed the apparition, the form of a young boy, crying on the turret of the abbey.'

“I raised my eyebrows unintentionally.

“ ‘Seen as well as heard?' I demanded. ‘And by two witnesses? Well, I can assure you that there is nothing in this world that exists unless it is due to some scientifically explainable reason.'

“ ‘Nothing in this world,' muttered Phillimore. ‘But what of the next?'

“ ‘If your family believes in this curse, why remain at Tullyfane?' I demanded. ‘Would it not be better to quit the house and estate if you are so sure that the curse is potent?'

“ ‘My father is stubborn, Holmes. He will not quit the place, for he has sunk every penny he has into it apart from our town house in Dublin. If it were me, I would sell it to Moriarty and leave the accursed spot.'

“ ‘Sell it to Moriarty? Why him, particularly?'

“ ‘He offered to buy Father out in order to help resolve the situation.'

“ ‘Rather magnanimous of him,' I observed. ‘Presumably he has no fear of the curse?'

“ ‘He reckons that the curse would only be directed at Anglo-Irish families like us, while he, being a pure Milesian, a Gael of the Gaels, so to speak, would be immune to the curse.'

“Colonel Phillimore had sent a calèche to Killarney Station to bring Phillimore and me to Tullyfane Abbey. The old colonel was clearly not in the best of spirits when he greeted us in the library. I noticed his hand shook a little as he raised it to greet me.

“ ‘Friend of Jack's, eh? Yes, I remember you. One of the Galway Holmeses. Mycroft Holmes is your brother? Works for Lord Hartington, eh? Chief Secretary, eh?'

“He had an irritating manner of putting
eh
after each telegraphic phrase as a punctuation.

“It was then that Agnes Phillimore came in to welcome us. God, Watson, I was young and ardent in those days. Even now, as I look back with a more critical eye and colder blood, I acknowledge that she was rare and wonderful in her beauty. She held out her hand to me with a smile, but I saw at once that it lacked the warmth and friendship that I thought it had once held for me alone. Her speech was reserved, and she greeted me as a distant friend. Perhaps she had grown into a woman while I held to her image with boyish passion? It was impossible for me to acknowledge this at that time, but the passion was all on my side. Ah, immature youth, what else is there to say?

“We dined in somber mode that evening. Somber for me because I was wrestling with life's cruel realities; somber for the Phillimores because of the curse that hung over the house. We were just finishing the dessert when Agnes suddenly froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Then Colonel Phillimore dropped his spoon with a crash on his plate and gave a piteous moan.

“In the silence that followed I heard it plainly. It was the sound of a sobbing child. It seemed to echo all around the room. Even Jack Phillimore looked distracted.

“I pushed back my chair and stood up, trying to pinpoint the direction from which the sounds came.

“ ‘What lies directly beneath this dining room?' I demanded of the colonel. He was white in the face, too far gone with shock to answer me.

“I turned to Jack Phillimore. He replied with some nervousness.

“ ‘The cellars, Holmes.'

“ ‘Come, then,' I cried, grabbing a candelabra
from the table and striding swiftly to the door.

“As I reached the door, Agnes stamped her foot twice on the floor as if agitated.

“ ‘Really, Mr. Holmes,' she cried, ‘you cannot do battle with an ethereal being!'

“I paused in the doorway to smile briefly at her.

“ ‘I doubt that I shall find an ethereal being, Miss Phillimore.'

“Jack Phillimore led the way to the cellar, and we searched it thoroughly, finding nothing.

“ ‘What did you expect to find?' demanded Phillimore, seeing my disappointment as we returned to the dining room.

“ ‘A small boy, corporeal in form and not a spirit,' I replied firmly.

“ ‘Would that it were so.' Agnes greeted our return without disguising her look of satisfaction that I could produce no physical entity in explanation. ‘Do you not think that I have caused this house to be searched time and time again? My father is on the verge of madness. I do believe that he has come to the end of his composure. I fear for what he might do to himself.'

“ ‘And the day after tomorrow is his fiftieth birthday,' added Phillimore soberly.

“We were standing in the entrance to the dining room when Malone, the aging butler, answered a summons to the front door by the jangle of the bell.

“ ‘It's a Professor Moriarty,' he intoned.

“Moriarty was tall and thin, with a forehead domed in a white curve and deeply set eyes. His face protruded forward and had a curious habit of slowly oscillating from side to side in what, in the harsh judgment of my youth, I felt to be a curiously reptilian fashion. I suppose, looking back, he was handsome in a way and somewhat distinguished. He had been young for his professorship, and there was no doubting the sharpness of his mind and intellect.

“Agnes greeted him with warmth while Phillimore was indifferent. As for myself, I felt I had to suppress my ill humor. He had come to join us for coffee and brandy and made sympathetic overtures to the colonel over his apparent state of ill health.

“ ‘My offer still stands, dear sir,' he said. ‘Best be rid of the abbey and the curse in one fell swoop. Not, of course, that you would lose it entirely, for when Agnes and I are married, you will always be a welcome guest here.'

“Colonel Phillimore actually growled. A soft rumbling sound in the back of his throat, like an animal at bay and goaded into response.

“ ‘I intend to see this through. I refuse to be chased out of my home by a specter when Akbar Khan and his screaming Afghans could not budge me from the fort at Peiwar Pass. No, sir. Here I intend to stay and see my fiftieth birthday through.'

“ ‘I think you should at least consider James's offer, Father,' Agnes rebuked him. ‘This whole business is affecting your nerves. Better get rid of the place and move to Dublin.'

“ ‘Nonsense!' snapped her father. ‘I shall see it through. I will hear no more.'

“We went to bed early that night, and I confess, I spent some time analyzing my feelings for Agnes before dropping into a dozing slumber.

“The crying woke me. I hauled on a dressing gown and hastened to the window through which a full white moon sent its soft light. The cry was like a banshee's wail. It seemed to be coming from above me. I hastened from the room and in the corridor outside I came across Jack Phillimore, similarly attired in a dressing gown. His face looked ghastly.

“ ‘Tell me that I am not dreaming, Holmes,' he cried.

“ ‘Not unless we share a dream,' I replied tersely. ‘Do you have a revolver?'

“He looked startled.

“ ‘What do you hope to achieve with a revolver?' he demanded.

“ ‘I think it might be efficacious in dealing with ghosts, ghouls, and apparitions.' I smiled thinly.

“Phillimore shook his head.

“ ‘The guns are locked below in the gun room. My father has the key.'

“ ‘Ah well,' I replied in resignation, ‘we can probably proceed without them. This crying is emanating from above. What's up there?'

“ ‘The turret room. That's where Father said he saw the apparition before.'

“ ‘Lead me to the turret room, then.'

“Spurred on by the urgency of my tone, Phillimore turned to lead the way. We flew up the stairs of a circular tower and emerged onto a flat roof. At the far end of the building rose a similar, though larger, tower or, more accurately, a round turret. Encircling it, ten feet above the roof level, there ran a small balcony.

“ ‘My God!' cried Phillimore, halting so abruptly that I cannoned in to him.

“It took me a moment to recover before I saw what had caused his distress. On this balcony there stood the figure of a small boy. He was clearly lit in the bright moonlight and yet, yet I will tell you no lie, Watson, his entire body and clothes glowed with a strange luminescence. The boy it was who was letting out the eerie, wailing sounds.

“ ‘Do you see it, Holmes?' cried Phillimore.

“ ‘I see the young rascal, whoever he is!' I yelled, running toward the tower over the flat roof.

“Then the apparition was gone. How or where, I did not observe.

“I reached the base of the tower and looked for a way to scramble up to the balcony. There was only one way of egress from the roof—a small door in the tower which seemed clearly barred on the inside.

“ ‘Come, Phillimore, the child is escaping!' I cried in frustration.

“ ‘Escaping, eh?' It was the colonel who emerged out of the darkness behind us. His face was ashen. He was clad only in his pajamas.

“ ‘Specters don't need to escape, eh! No, sir! Now that you have seen it, too, I can say I am not mad. At least, not mad, eh?'

“ ‘How do I get into the turret?' I demanded, ignoring the colonel's ranting.

“ ‘Boarded up for years, Holmes,' Phillimore explained, moving to support his frail father for fear the old man might topple over. ‘There's no way anyone could have entered or left it.'

“ ‘Someone did,' I affirmed. ‘That was no specter. I think this has been arranged. I think you should call in the police.'

“The colonel refused to speak further of the matter and retired to bed. I spent most of the night checking the approaches to the turret room and was forced to admit that all means of entrance and exit seemed perfectly secured. But I was sure that when I started to run across the roof toward the tower, the boy had bobbed away with such a startled expression that no self-respecting ghost in the middle of haunting would have assumed.

“The next morning, over breakfast, I was forceful in my exhortations to the colonel that he should put the matter forthwith in the hands of the local police. I told him that I had no doubts that some bizarre game was afoot. The colonel had recovered some of his equilibrium and listened attentively to my arguments.

“Surprisingly, the opposition came from Agnes. She was still in favor of her father departing the house and putting an end to the curse.

“We were just finishing breakfast when Malone announced the arrival of Professor Moriarty.

“Agnes went to join him in the library while we three finished our meal, by the end of which, Colonel Phillimore had made up his mind to follow my advice. It was decided that we accompany Colonel Phillimore directly after breakfast to discuss the matter with the local Inspector of the Royal Irish Constabulary. Agnes and Moriarty joined us, and having heard the story from Agnes, Moriarty actually said that it was the best course of action, although Agnes still had her doubts. In fact, Moriarty offered to accompany us. Agnes excused herself a little ungraciously, I thought, because she had arranged to make an inventory of the wines in the cellar.

“So the colonel, Phillimore, Moriarty, and I agreed to walk the two miles into the town. It must be observed that a few miles' walk was nothing for those who lived in the country in
those days. Now, in London, everyone is forever hailing hansom carriages even if they merely desire to journey to the end of the street.

“We left the house and began to stroll down the path. We had barely gone twenty yards when the colonel, casting an eye at the sky, excused himself and said he needed his umbrella and would be but a moment. He turned, hurried back to his front door, and entered. That was when he disappeared from this world forever.

“The three of us waited patiently for a few moments. Moriarty then said that if we continued to stroll at an easy pace, the colonel would catch us up. Yet when we reached the gates of the estate, I began to grow concerned that there was still no sign of the colonel. I caused our party to wait at the gates. Ten minutes passed, and then I felt I should return to find out what had delayed the colonel.

“The umbrella was still in the hall stand. There was no sign of the colonel. I rang the bell for old Malone and he swore that as far as he was aware the colonel had left with us and had not returned. There was no budging him on that point. Grumbling more than a little, he set off to the colonel's room; I went to the study. Soon the entire house was being searched as Jack Phillimore and Moriarty arrived back to discover the cause of the delay.

“It was then that Agnes emerged from the cellars, looking a little disheveled, an inventory in her hand. When she heard that her father had simply vanished, she grew distraught and Malone had to fetch the brandy.