The Master of the Macabre
Page 26
“My dear Hogarth,” said the Rector softly, “I don’t think your house will be troubled further by those two poor ghosts.”
*
It is now my turn to say, “And that’s the end of the story.” Indeed, I have shelved all my other work and begun to set it down. I have the house very much to myself as Carnaby has gone with Hogarth to London for consultation with the Rightful Authorities. I think the legal ownership of the stirrup-cup will be held in abeyance for many moons. In their absence, Hoadley looks after me as though nothing untoward had happened. He receives constant letters of instructions out of which we learnt that Carnaby had arranged for the Indians’ passage home. As to the cup, they still think it has been returned to its rightful owner—the Prophet Himself. I look forward greatly for Hogarth’s return, for he has promised to tell me more stories from his collection. But in this volume I am including only those he told between our periods of nightmares. Hoadley has just come in with pleasant drinks before my dinner. I have asked him to drink with me, and he is now raising his glass in that stately way he has. I know he is about to name a toast. I am quite right. He is.
He is saying, “Shall we drink to the Master, sir?”
And I reply, “The very toast I was about to name. To our good friend, Hoadley—the Master—the Master of the Macabre.”
the end
laus deo