Still More Tales For The Midnight Hour

by J. B. Stamper

  Mrs. Agatha Parry lived in a splendid mansion on top of a high cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Her husband had owned a whole fleet of whaling ships and had become rich from the profits of whale oil. Captain Parry had died five years earlier, leaving his widow the richest woman in the county.

  Some people said that Agatha Parry had become mean and stingy after her husband's death. Others said she had always been so; her husband had made up for it by his generosity to the poor and unfortunate. Stories and rumors flew around the nearby towns about Agatha Parry. She had nearly starved a maid to death for not polishing the silver well enough. She insisted that leftover food be fed to her lap dogs rather than given to the poor. She wouldn't let beggars come to the mansion doors and made her servants push them away into the dark and cold night.

  Agatha Parry seldom went to town. She had everything on her estate that she could wish for. Famous artists filled her mansion with paintings. There was a music room with a grand piano and a gold harp. In the dining room Agatha Parry ate at the head of a long table laid with fine china and silver. Her guests, mostly wealthy people from far away, were still not as wealthy as she and greedily ate the delicacies set before them.

  If it were not for her daily walk along the cliffs, Agatha Parry would never have seen the poor and starving people who lived around her. But she believed that the sea air was good for her complexion, so she took a walk in the early evening each day. The beggars had become desperate enough to follow the rich lady to the cliffs and beg for food from her there.

  After seeing their hollow faces and dirty clothes, Agatha had held her handkerchief to her nose and screamed for her servants. She demanded that the cliffs be cleared of beggars before her walk from then on. She wouldn't have the sight of these horrid people spoiling her complexion.

  One evening, as usual, Agatha set off from her mansion for her walk on the cliffs. The silk skirts of her expensive dress rustled around her. The rings she loved to wear hung heavy on her fingers. By her side walked one of the little lap dogs she loved and pampered.

  Her servants had gone back to the mansion after assuring her that the cliffs were empty of beggars. Agatha strolled along the stone cliffs, worn smooth by years of crashing waves. Ahead of her, a large rock jutted into the path. To pass by it, she had to walk close to the edge of the cliff. Her tiny dog began to whimper and wouldn't go further. Agatha snapped her fingers at him angrily, but the dog cowered on the ground. Finally, she bent down and picked him up, and then stepped cautiously around the rock onto the narrow path.

  Below, the sea was surging and foaming with the tide. The water looked dark and angry at the sunlight fading in the sky. Agatha had almost walked around the rock when she looked up from the ocean and saw an old woman sitting on a ledge in the rock. With a scream Agatha dropped her little dog. It scampered to safety away from the cliff edge.

  "Some food for the starving," the old woman begged in a cracked voice.

  Agatha looked at the beggar with disgust. The woman was dressed in black rags with an old black cape thrown around her shoulders. Her yellowed teeth were long and pointed. Her dark eyes seemed to glow in her old, wrinkled face. And her gnarled fingers shook as they reached out to Agatha, pleading.

  "Go away, old woman," Agatha said. She wanted to run away herself, but her legs had become weak with fright.

  "Rich lady, I am starving," the old woman said. "Give me just one coin to buy food with."

  "Leave me alone," Agatha screamed. But still she couldn't run away from the woman. Their eyes met, and Agatha felt fear creep through her veins like a bitter poison.

  "If you do not give me something to eat, I will die," the old beggar woman said in a shaking voice. "And someday, you will be like me, poor and ugly and starving."

  Agatha twisted her eyes away from the woman's gaze. "I'll never be like you," she hissed. Then she looked down at the rings on her hands and pulled from one finger a gold ring engraved with her initials.

  "I can never be poor," she said, "just as this ring can never return from the sea." Then she threw the ring over the cliff into the roaring ocean.

  The old woman muttered strange words and looked out to the sea. Agatha suddenly found her strength and ran back along the cliff path to her mansion.

  That night Agatha did not enjoy the delicious meal set before her on the long table. The roast beef tasted dry in her mouth, even though it had been cooked to perfection. The rich chocolate dessert seemed bitter rather than sweet, and Agatha pushed it away uneaten. She walked to the fireplace and sat down in a chair in front of it. But when she stared into the flames, she seemed to see the old woman's eyes glowing back at her.

  The next evening she began to take her walk on the cliffs again. But a servant hurried to stop her. He said he had found a dead body on a rock ledge and had called the villagers to take it away. Mrs. Parry would have to wait until the woman was removed.

  Agatha hurried back into her mansion. She didn't have to ask what the woman looked like. She knew exactly how the old, wrinkled face would look in death.

  That night was Agatha's first of many sleepless nights. She put on her lace and silk nightgown, lay her head down on the goose-feather pillows, shut her eyes, and saw the old woman's glowing eyes, yellow teeth, and gnarled fingers.

  A year passed. Agatha's once plump figure had become thin and bony, and her rich clothes hung loose on her. She no longer took walks along the cliffs, and her complexion had grown dry and wrinkled. Doctors were called to help her sleep and eat, but they did no good.

  Agatha became greedier and greedier as she became thinner and thinner. During the nights when she couldn't sleep, she counted her money or rearranged her jewels in her drawers. Often she thought of the gold ring she had thrown into the sea.

  One night she decided she would have a grand dinner and invite all her rich friends whom she hadn't seen for over a year. She must let them know that she was still rich and well, just in case they had heard rumors to the opposite. She sent her servants to buy the most expensive foods and wines for the dinner. She ordered delicacies from all over the world. No expense was spared to get the mansion ready.

  At last the night of the great dinner arrived. Agatha's old friends poured into the house, curious and eager to see her. She noticed the surprise on their faces when she greeted them. With artificial smiles, they told her how well she looked.

  Agatha led them into the dining room, where the long table was set with sparkling silver and shining china. She took her place at the head of the table and gestured to the servants to begin serving. The guests ate their first, second, and third courses while Agatha watched. She left the food put on her plate untouched, for she had no appetite.

  Then a servant came in carrying a large, domed platter. He set it on the table in front of Agatha and, with a flourish, whisked off the top. Under the dome was a huge whole fish. The guests let out a murmur of amazement.

  The servant picked up a knife and began to carve the fish. He cut down its long body and then opened it up. Suddenly, with a loud clatter, he dropped the knife on the silver plate. Agatha looked up at the servant with irritation, and then she followed his eyes down to the platter.

  There, inside the fish's belly, was a gold ring, shining in the candlelight. The servant picked it up and handed it to Agatha. With trembling fingers, she turned it around and around until she saw her initials etched in the gold. She remembered the words she had spoken when she threw the ring in the sea. Then, as her guests watched with curious eyes, Agatha jumped up and ran from the table, choking back the scream that was rising in her throat.

  That night a fire burned Agatha's house to the ground, destroying all her riches. Agatha escaped with just the clothes she had on and a tattered black cape that a servant had put around her. At daybreak, Agatha stood watching the last embers of her house burn out. Then she pulled the cape closer around her and walked toward the cliffs overlooking the ocean. And to this day, if you go to a certain place along the cliffs of New
England, you might see the ghost of an old beggar woman. And you'll know who she is by the tattered black cape and the gold ring that she still wears.

  The Masked Ball

  It was Halloween night. A full moon shone down on the mansion where a large party of people danced and laughed at the masked ball. But upstairs in the mansion, one person was not dancing or laughing.

  A young woman named Kate was standing alone in a small room. Holding her silvery mask in shaking hands, she stared at her face in a large gilt-framed mirror. Signs of fear and sleeplessness marked her blue eyes. Quickly she slipped the mask back over her face and turned to the door. She would have to go back to the ball... even though, somewhere in the crowd, the vampire waited for her.

  Out in the corridor, Kate passed a man in a Roman toga and a woman dressed as Cleopatra. Like Kate, they wore masks over their faces. But even without their masks, Kate wouldn't have known them. She only knew the host of the party, an old acquaintance of her father's.

  Kate came to the top of the wide, spiral staircase that wound down to the front hallway of the mansion. From below, the sound of laughing and talking floated up to her. Kate put on an artificial smile and, step by step, started down the staircase.

  Halfway down, her eyes were caught by a dark figure gliding through the crowd. His black cape swirled as he moved through the brightly colored costumes. Kate's heart skipped a beat, and her knees turned to sand. It was the same man she had glimpsed earlier and run away from. She had only seen his black clothes and his dark, shiny hair. But she knew who he was -- the vampire.

  Kate forced herself to take another step down the stairs. Then the man turned around and looked up, staring straight at her. In one terrible second, Kate saw the two fangs curving over his red lips. She felt the strength in her legs ebb away. Then her mind went black....

  When she opened her eyes, the blackness had gone. Kate looked up into the masked face of a young man with blond hair.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  Kate stood up straight on the staircase and remembered where she was. Many of the masked faces in the hallway below were turned toward her. But the dark figure with the horrible fangs was nowhere to be seen.

  "Let me help you down the stairs," the young man said.

  Kate turned to him and smiled. He was dressed in a red braided jacket and black pants. A full mask covered his face.

  "Thank you," she said. "I must have started to faint."

  "Come with me," the young man said. "Perhaps you need something to eat. My name, by the way, is Robert."

  "I'm Kate," she answered, feeling as though a shadow had been lifted from the evening.

  She walked beside the young man through the crowd of curious masks staring at her. They made their way to the ballroom, where a large table was filled with food. Kate tried to eat a small sandwich but found that her appetite had disappeared.

  "I made a fool of myself on the staircase," she said, turning to Robert. "You see, I thought I saw a vampire." She paused and then said, "For many nights now, I have had terrible dreams -- nightmares -- about a vampire."

  Robert stopped eating and stared at her intently. "What are your dreams like?" he asked.

  Kate hesitated. She didn't know how her strange story would sound to him. But he waited for her to begin.

  "I dream that a vampire dressed all in black is coming to get me," she said. "No matter how I try to escape him, he is always there. And just as I see his fangs, I scream... and wake up."

  As Kate finished her story, she noticed a change in Robert's eyes. They became harder and darker. Suddenly, she was embarrassed. Perhaps he thought she was crazy.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm spoiling your evening. Could we dance?"

  Robert took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Soon Kate forgot about the man in black and her nightmare. Then, as another dance began, Kate saw a white hand reach up to Robert's shoulder and tap it. They both turned to face the dark figure standing beside them.

  "May I cut in and have this dance with the young lady?" he asked.

  Kate shrank back in terror. It was the man in black -- the vampire -- standing only inches away from her., Her eyes were drawn to his mouth. Now she could see that the fangs were made of plastic and not real at all. But she turned away quickly and gripped Robert's hand tightly in hers.

  "I'm sorry," Robert said firmly, "but she wants to stay with me."

  Kate watched the black figure slip away like a cat through the crowd.

  "That was him, the man I saw before," Kate said as they began to dance again. "Did you see his fangs?"

  "They weren't real fangs at all," Robert said. "You shouldn't be afraid of him."

  "But I am afraid," Kate said. "My dreams are so real that I'm afraid they might come true."

  You are overexcited," Robert said. "It is Halloween night."

  His voice sounded hard and cold to Kate; so cold that a chill ran down her spine. Perhaps he was becoming bored by her talk of the vampire. Suddenly Kate wanted to leave the ballroom and breathe fresh air.

  "Please come out onto the patio with me," she said. "I can't stand it in here anymore."

  Robert led her from the dance floor to a set of French doors that opened up onto the patio. They walked into the warm night air. Kate looked up at the moon in the sky. It still shone brightly, but the shadow of a cloudbank loomed near it.

  "Now I feel safe," she said, turning around to look back at the windows of the ballroom. Then she saw the silhouette against the window. It was the vampire, staring out at her on the patio.

  Kate choked back a scream and ran down a flight of steps into the garden, pulling Robert along with her.

  "It's hard to see," she gasped as they followed a path that twisted among high bushes. "I have to take off my mask." She pulled the silvery mask away from her face and looked at Robert, expecting him to take off his mask as well. But he just stared at her and then hurried down the path.

  Suddenly the path ended at the edge of a lake. Kate found herself standing on a narrow wooden dock that had a rowboat tied to it. Robert gestured toward the boat.

  "I'll take you for a ride in the moonlight," he said.

  Kate stepped into the rowboat. Then, before he got in, Robert unbuttoned his red braid jacket and pulled it off. Kate noticed that now he was dressed all in black. He stepped into the boat, picked up the oars, and pulled the boat away from the dock.

  Kate sat up straight in the boat and nervously looked back at the distant lights of the mansion. In front of her, Robert lifted the heavy oars in and out of the water.

  "This is hard work," he said. "Would you hold the oars while I take off my wig?"

  Kate grasped the oars with both hands and watched with curiosity as he pulled off the blond wig, holding his mask carefully in place with his other hand. As he took the oars back,

  Kate noticed how the moonlight shimmered on his shiny black hair.

  "Why don't you take off your mask?" Kate asked. "It must be very uncomfortable."

  Robert didn't answer, but kept rowing farther and farther away from the shore.

  Kate looked up at the moon. It was still shining bright and full, but she could see the corner of the cloudbank drawing nearer to it in the sky. She turned back to look at Robert. His mask looked eerie in the moonlight against the darkness of his hair and clothing.

  "Please, take off that mask," Kate asked him.

  "When we get to the middle of the lake," he answered. "It will only be a few more minutes."

  Kate realized that her heart had begun to pound. She looked wildly around the dark lake, searching for the shoreline. Just then, the clouds passed over the moon. She could only see the shadowy figure in front of her.

  Suddenly the sound of the oars lapping in the water stopped. Kate heard them being dragged into the boat. Then all was quiet.

  Kate sat very still in the boat as the cold fingers of fear reached around her heart. In the pale light, she could see Robert's hand moving up to take off t
he mask. Then the moon broke out of the clouds, and a scream rose from deep in Kate's throat.

  The light of the moon shone down on the face of the vampire... and glittered on his long white fangs.

  Skin-and-Bones

  It was one hundred years ago, tin an autumn night, that Jacob Cooper drew his horse and buggy up to the old inn at twilight. As Jacob tied his horse to the hitching post by the side of the inn, he turned back to look at the western sky. It was purplish red from the setting sun and splotched with angry black clouds. A sharp wind had sprung up and was cutting through Jacob's coat and chilling him to the bone.

  Jacob hurried toward the door with a sign hanging over it that read: The Red Fox Inn. As he pushed the door open, he felt a rush of warm air and the smell of cooked food. Jacob walked in, meeting the stares of the three men who sat at a table eating and drinking. A red-cheeked man stood behind the bar, polishing its shiny mahogany surface.

  "Evening," Jacob said, sitting down at a table. "I'd like some hot roast beef and whatever you have to go with it," he said to the man behind the bar.

  "You look half frozen," the man said in a friendly way as he turned to go into the kitchen to get Jacob's food.

  "Cold out there?" one of the men at the table said.

  Jacob nodded his head and rubbed his hands together.

  "Good thing you're at a warm, safe inn," another man said. "I wouldn't want to travel here-abouts on such a night."

  "I just stopped for food," Jacob explained as the rosy-cheeked man brought out his food from the kitchen. "I have to travel ten miles yet tonight. My friend in Platkill is expecting me."

  Jacob noticed that the four men had fallen silent and were looking at each other uneasily.

  "You'd better tell him, Joe," one of the men at the table said to the rosy-cheeked man.

  Joe leaned on the bar, cleared his throat, and looked at Jacob.