"What's the matter with you?" Jeff asked. "Are you chicken?"
"I wouldn't go any farther if I were you," Peter warned.
The two boys laughed at him and ran up to the house. Peter watched as they bounded up the porch stairs two at a time. Brian reached the door first. He grabbed the old handle and gave it a hard push. The door swung open with a sickening creak.
Peter took a few steps closer to the house. Brian and Jeff looked back at him and laughed again. Then they both went inside the house. Peter felt a sweat break out on his brow. He couldn't bring himself to go up to the house, no matter how he willed his feet to move forward.
Ten minutes later, Brian and Jeff came out of the house covered with dust and cobwebs.
"Some haunted house," Jeff said. "All that's in there is a bunch of old furniture."
"Why didn't you come in?" Brian asked. "You're not really afraid of that place, are you?"
"Come on, I've got to get back," Peter said, starting off down the path to the inn.
"Chicken," Jeff whispered behind his back.
"Chicken," Brian echoed.
The next day Jeff and Brian ignored Peter. He knew what they thought of him. And he was beginning to think they were right. Why should he be afraid of the old house if the two of them had walked around inside it and not seen or heard a thing? He had just let the old man's story get to his imagination.
Peter nervously ran his hand through his red hair. Then he made up his mind. He was going back to the house. He would prove to himself that he wasn't a chicken. And he would come back and tell Jeff and Brian what he'd done. Maybe he could even bring something back from inside to prove it.
Peter looked up as he set off from the inn. Storm clouds were gathering in the late afternoon sky. A chilling autumn wind cut through his sweater and blew the leaves off the trees in swirling clumps. The path leading to the old house looked different today. Many of the trees along it had been stripped almost bare of their leaves. The white birches looked like skeletons shivering in the wind. Peter stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked fiercely through the leaves at his feet. Why had Charlie ever told him that story anyway?
Peter started to run along the path to warm himself up. The sooner he got to the house, the sooner it would be over. Within a short time, he was standing at the clearing with the house in front of him.
Just like yesterday, he found that his legs were suddenly frozen with fear. The house looked evil today, hunched under the dark gray sky. Peter forced himself to walk toward it. He hugged his arms around his body, trying to keep himself from shaking. Step by step, he drew nearer to the stairs going up to the front porch.
The old man's words of warning went through his mind, but Peter ignored them. He couldn't stop now. A step away from the stairs, he heard the same weird, whooshing noise he'd heard before. A swell of panic rose inside him. He tried to stop his foot from stepping onto the first stair. But it was too late. Just then, two invisible arms grabbed hold of him and pulled him up the stairs onto the porch. And then, in front of him, the door to the house swung open as if pushed by an invisible hand.
Peter felt himself being pulled inside the house. He couldn't run away. He couldn't escape. The door slammed behind him.
Peter looked around the room in terror. Five ghostly faces stared back at him. And finally, Peter understood-the old man's words of warning... for each ghost had red hair.
The Ghost's Revenge
The young Confederate soldiers marched along the road, their bodies exhausted from battle, their uniforms bloody and torn. But they were the lucky ones. They had survived the awful battle that the Union soldiers had won. Many of their friends lay dead on the battlefield, never to return.
A young lieutenant named William Compton rode his horse alongside them. It had been his first battle, and he had seen things he wanted to forget. Several times, he had smelled death lurking near him, but he had escaped. William looked up from the dusty road to see a carriage passing by the line of soldiers. A pretty young girl sat in it. She met his eyes and smiled.
Inside the carriage, Lucy Potter continued to smile. The young officer had looked dirty and tired, but he was very handsome. Like many young men, he obviously found her lovely to look at. Lucy had just turned seventeen, and she spent a great deal of time in front of the mirror.
The carriage jolted on down the rough road, carrying Lucy to her uncle's plantation in the country. She had had to flee from the city where she was going to a boarding school when the Union soldiers had drawn too near. Her rich uncle had offered to take her in, since she had been orphaned three years ago when both her parents had died in an epidemic.
Lucy stuck her head out the carriage window to peer back at the soldiers. The war was exciting to her, and she thought the young men looked brave and dashing in their uniforms. Someday soon she hoped to meet a handsome, rich man and marry him.
The shadows of night were falling over the white-columned mansion when Lucy arrived at her uncle's house. It was a beautiful, spacious house -- very different from the modest home Lucy had grown up in. As she walked up to the door held open by a servant, she vowed to live this life always. She must simply marry the right husband.
Lucy's aunt and uncle received her with affection and hospitality. She was shown to a beautiful bedroom with a closet full of expensive dresses that had belonged to her cousin Eleanor, who had died in the same epidemic as Lucy's parents. Before she went to bed, Lucy tried many of the dresses on. She looked in the mirror and smiled. Her new life was beginning.
In the middle of that night, a knock sounded on the mansion door. Lucy's uncle, Thomas Potter, opened it and saw an exhausted Confederate captain standing there. The officer asked if his soldiers could spend the night on Mr. Potter's land. Mr. Potter readily agreed and invited the officer and his lieutenants to stay in the mansion.
Lucy came down for breakfast the next morning dressed in a rose-colored silk dress that cast a glow over her white skin and set off her deep blue eyes. She walked into the dining room, expecting to greet only her aunt and uncle. She was startled to see four young men and one older man sitting with her relatives. They were all dressed in the gray uniforms of officers of the Confederate army.
"My niece, Lucy Potter," her uncle said graciously. Then, as all the officers rose to meet her, he introduced each of them. Lucy nodded and smiled to each. But she smiled most when she was introduced to Lieutenant William Compton. She remembered having seen his handsome face from her carriage the day before. Today it was scrubbed clean and his auburn hair shone in the sunlight. She took her place across from his at the long table set with fine china and silver.
During the breakfast, while Mr. Potter and the officers discussed the progress of the war, Lucy often looked up to see William Compton staring at her with a longing look in his brown eyes. She let herself blush, knowing it complimented her.
"I insist that you and your men stay on the plantation until you get further orders," Mr. Potter said to the captain.
"Thank you, sir," the captain answered. "My men need to stop running for a while. The war has taken its toll on them."
Lucy looked again at Lieutenant Compton and saw the happiness on his face. She wondered if he was as rich as he was handsome. She vowed to find out as soon as possible.
That afternoon, from her bedroom window, Lucy saw Lieutenant Compton walking in the rose garden near the mansion. She look a last look in the mirror, then hurried down the wide staircase, out the door of the mansion, and down the path to the rose garden. She slowed down when she saw the lieutenant leaning against an old oak ahead.
"Lucy," he said with more feeling than he wanted to betray when he saw her. "Excuse me, I mean Miss Potter."
She insisted that he call her Lucy, and he asked that she call him William. By the time they had walked around the rose garden twice, she knew that he was in love with her. War had brought his feelings close to the surface and made them intense.
Once he started to tell her a
bout the terrible battle he'd just been in, but then stopped. He turned away and broke off a red rose from a nearby bush. He picked off the thorns and gave it to Lucy with a look that made her heart pound.
That evening they sat beside each other at dinner and shared private conversation while the others talked about Mr. Lincoln and the war. Lucy went to bed that night with her head swimming with thoughts of William. She reminded herself that tomorrow she must find out how rich he was.
The next evening, as they sat together in the rose garden after dinner, Lucy asked William where his home was. But instead of hearing about a white mansion like her uncle's, she heard about a wood-frame house like the one she had grown up in. Her heart sank as she listened to him speak sadly of his widowed mother, living a life made poorer by the war. But his words faded from her mind when he kissed her under a tree in the shadows of the Spanish moss that hung like a canopy around them.
The soldiers stayed on for three more weeks while General Lee planned his next move against the Union army. Lucy and William spent their days together and dreamed of each other at night. Then one morning the captain made an announcement at breakfast.
"Tomorrow we march north," he said. "The Union army is on the move again. We'll meet them in battle fifty miles north of here."
Lucy met William's eyes and saw the shudder pass through his body. The captain gave orders to his lieutenants about all they had to do that day. Before he left, William made Lucy promise to meet him in the rose garden that night.
They met under the same tree as before. Lucy's heart beat fast as she watched William pull out something small and shiny from the pocket of his uniform. Then she felt him slip the smooth, gold band onto the ring finger of her left hand.
"Marry me, Lucy, when I come back," he said, dropping down on one knee as he asked her.
Lucy looked at the plain ring in the moonlight. She had always dreamed of a diamond ring, a huge stone that sent off glints of fire. But then she looked down at William's face. He was going off to battle the next day. She said she would marry him.
William stood up and kissed her. Then he held her shoulders tightly in his hands and stared intently into her eyes. "Promise me something, Lucy," he asked. "If I don't come back from this battle, say you'll never marry anyone else."
Lucy hesitated. She twisted the tight ring around her finger. William was still staring into her eyes. "I promise, William. I'll never marry anyone but you."
The soldiers left the next morning. William rode away on his horse, waving good-bye to Lucy on the steps of the mansion. Lucy nervously twisted the ring on her finger as she watched him until he rode out of sight. Then she went up to her room and stared in the mirror.
Five nights later, there was another knock on the mansion door. Again Mr. Potter opened it to find an exhausted Confederate officer. He was a young captain with news of the terrible battle that had taken place fifty miles to the north. The South had lost the battle and suffered a great loss of men. Captain Sanders asked if he and his men could stay on Mr. Potter's land. Before he left to settle in his men, he gave one more piece of news. Another captain had told him to bring news about Lieutenant William Compton to Miss Lucy Potter. Lieutenant Compton had been shot in the battle and was dead.
When Mr. Potter broke the news to Lucy the next morning, he waited for her to cry. But she seemed to take William's death with great calm. She only betrayed her feelings by twisting the gold ring around her finger over and over again.
The next weeks were confused and chaotic in the mansion. The young captain had moved into the house with his other officers. The servants and family tended to the sick and wounded soldiers quartered in the bams. Lucy found that the memories of William that haunted her were eased by the presence of Captain Sanders. She found him handsome and was fascinated by the stories he told of his father's plantation, which was still prosperous and safe in the Deep South. Lucy suspected that Captain Sanders found her attractive, but he was too much of a gentleman to show it, especially since he had brought the news of her fiancé’s death.
One day Captain Sanders offered to take her to the cemetery where the Confederate soldiers killed in the great battle had been buried. Lieutenant Compton was among them. Lucy eagerly accepted his invitation, and when the day came, she chose to wear a brightly colored dress that complimented her. She rode in the carriage with the captain to the cemetery, nervously twisting the gold band around her finger as she listened to his stories of his life before the war.
When the captain took her to William's grave, she insisted that she be left alone there. And when she saw that Captain Sanders was out of sight, she pulled the gold ring off her finger and threw it among the weeds that had already sprung up over William's grave.
Her aunt and uncle were shocked when, two months later, Captain Sanders announced that Lucy had agreed to marry him. They were both eager to be married before the next great battle. Hastily, Mr. Potter arranged for the wedding to take place the next Saturday in the local church.
Lucy walked around the mansion as if on air, showing everyone the beautiful diamond engagement ring that Captain Sanders had given her. The best seamstress in the county was hired to work day and night to make a beautiful silk and lace wedding gown. Only once did her aunt dare to mention William Compton's name. Lucy had screamed that she never wanted to hear of him again, and she had twisted the diamond ring on her finger so hard that she cut herself.
On the morning of her wedding, Lucy walked down the aisle of the small country church on the arm of her uncle. She stared lovingly into the eyes of her bridegroom as he waited for her at the altar.
The minister began the ceremony. As she came closer and closer to the moment when she would become Captain Sander's rich and beautiful wife, Lucy felt a nervousness rising inside her. The ring on her finger seemed to be burning with unnatural heat, and Lucy had to hold herself back from twisting it around and around.
The minister came to the familiar words of the wedding ceremony, just before he pronounced them man and wife. "If anyone has cause to stop this marriage, let him speak now... or forever hold his peace."
Lucy felt a horrible coldness start at the back of her neck and then creep all through her body. Then she heard the bang of a door and felt a cold wind rush up the aisle. Like everyone else in the church, she turned around. She met the gaze of William Compton, standing at the back of the church.
As he walked, step-by-step, up the aisle toward her, Lucy saw the red stain on his gray uniform. It looked like a red rose over his heart. But as he came closer and closer, she saw that it was blood.
William's eyes burned like fire, but his face was the horrible white of death. Lucy shrank back and clasped her right hand over the diamond ring to hide it. Everyone else seemed frozen by the cold, cold wind that blew through the church like a whirlwind with William at its center.
Lucy screamed in horror as she saw William's white, bony hands reach out toward her. Then she felt herself being swooped up in a deathly grip and carried down the aisle by her ghostly bridegroom.
When Captain Sanders and Lucy's relatives rushed out of the church, they could find no sign of Lucy. They only heard the eerie clip-clopping of a horse's hoofs breaking into a gallop.
The men called for their horses and rode off in the direction of the sound the horse had taken. They galloped down the road that led inevitably to the graveyard where William Compton had been laid to his uneasy rest. Captain Sanders ran through the tombstones to the place where he had brought Lucy only a short time before.
The weeds had grown higher on the grave. Lucy lay dead among them, her hands clutching the tombstone. And on the third finger of her left hand was the plain gold ring... that William Compton had given his bride.
A Special Treat
It was exactly one year since Lisa and Harry had been married. For their first anniversary, Lisa prepared a meal that she knew Harry would love. As she stood in the kitchen, ready to serve the first course, Lisa ran through the menu in he
r mind. Cream of broccoli soup. Stuffed mushrooms. Baked trout Florentine. Potatoes au gratin. Tossed salad. Chocolate mousse.
Then Lisa sighed. Of course, there was no red meat. Red meat was not allowed.
Harry's face broke into a smile as Lisa brought in the soup. They sat down, wished each other a happy anniversary, and began to eat. Lisa watched her husband with adoring eyes. She thought he was very handsome, even though her parents thought he should trim his full beard and thick hair.
As they ate one course after another, Harry complimented Lisa on each dish. He finished off the dessert of chocolate mousse with a satisfied sigh. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," he said, smiling at Lisa. "You're a wonderful cook."
"Thank you," Lisa said. Then she quickly added, "Perhaps I could make you a steak, or even just a hamburger, some night."
"Lisa," Harry said sternly. "You know I cannot eat red meat."
"But Harry..." Lisa began weakly. She knew it was going to be a hopeless argument.
"My mother said I should never eat red meat," Harry said firmly. "You know that, Lisa. We needn't discuss it further." He got up from his chair and began to clear the table.
"Why should you still do what your mother told you, Harry? You haven't seen her for twenty years."
"During the five years that my mother was at home, I never ate red meat," Harry replied. "And the last words my mother said to me -- just as she was running wildly out the door -- were: “Never eat red meat!' "
Lisa decided to drop the subject. After all, it was their anniversary.
But during the next week, Lisa found herself dwelling on Harry's stubbornness each time she cooked a meal. She liked red meat. It wasn't fair to her that she could never enjoy pot roast or leg of lamb or pork chops. Resentment against Harry's mother seethed and grew inside her. His mother must have been crazy, Lisa thought, to run out on Harry and her husband and never come back.
Harry didn't like to talk about his mother, but Lisa brought up the subject one night over a dinner of eggplant lasagna, a meatless dish that Harry loved.
Still More Tales For The Midnight Hour Page 3