Sketches New and Old

by Mark Twain

  A GHOST STORY

  I took a large room, far up Broadway, in a huge old building whose upperstories had been wholly unoccupied for years until I came. The place hadlong been given up to dust and cobwebs, to solitude and silence.I seemed groping among the tombs and invading the privacy of the dead,that first night I climbed up to my quarters. For the first time in mylife a superstitious dread came over me; and as I turned a dark angle ofthe stairway and an invisible cobweb swung its slazy woof in my face andclung there, I shuddered as one who had encountered a phantom.

  I was glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mold and thedarkness. A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down beforeit with a comforting sense of relief. For two hours I sat there,thinking of bygone times; recalling old scenes, and summoninghalf-forgotten faces out of the mists of the past; listening, in fancy,to voices that long ago grew silent for all time, and to once familiarsongs that nobody sings now. And as my reverie softened down to a sadderand sadder pathos, the shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail,the angry beating of the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquilpatter, and one by one the noises in the street subsided, until thehurrying footsteps of the last belated straggler died away in thedistance and left no sound behind.

  The fire had burned low. A sense of loneliness crept over me. I aroseand undressed, moving on tiptoe about the room, doing stealthily what Ihad to do, as if I were environed by sleeping enemies whose slumbers itwould be fatal to break. I covered up in bed, and lay listening to therain and wind and the faint creaking of distant shutters, till theylulled me to sleep.

  I slept profoundly, but how long I do not know. All at once I foundmyself awake, and filled with a shuddering expectancy. All was still.All but my own heart--I could hear it beat. Presently the bedclothesbegan to slip away slowly toward the foot of the bed, as if some one werepulling them! I could not stir; I could not speak. Still the blanketsslipped deliberately away, till my breast was uncovered. Then with agreat effort I seized them and drew them over my head. I waited,listened, waited. Once more that steady pull began, and once more I laytorpid a century of dragging seconds till my breast was naked again. Atlast I roused my energies and snatched the covers back to their place andheld them with a strong grip. I waited. By and by I felt a faint tug,and took a fresh grip. The tug strengthened to a steady strain--it grewstronger and stronger. My hold parted, and for the third time theblankets slid away. I groaned. An answering groan came from the foot ofthe bed! Beaded drops of sweat stood upon my forehead. I was more deadthan alive. Presently I heard a heavy footstep in my room--the step ofan elephant, it seemed to me--it was not like anything human. But it wasmoving from me--there was relief in that. I heard it approach the door--pass out without moving bolt or lock--and wander away among the dismalcorridors, straining the floors and joists till they creaked again as itpassed--and then silence reigned once more.

  When my excitement had calmed, I said to myself, "This is a dream--simplya hideous dream." And so I lay thinking it over until I convinced myselfthat it was a dream, and then a comforting laugh relaxed my lips and Iwas happy again. I got up and struck a light; and when I found that thelocks and bolts were just as I had left them, another soothing laughwelled in my heart and rippled from my lips. I took my pipe and lit it,and was just sitting down before the fire, when--down went the pipe out ofmy nerveless fingers, the blood forsook my cheeks, and my placidbreathing was cut short with a gasp! In the ashes on the hearth, side byside with my own bare footprint, was another, so vast that in comparisonmine was but an infant's! Then I had had a visitor, and the elephanttread was explained.

  I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a longtime, peering into the darkness, and listening. Then I heard a gratingnoise overhead, like the dragging of a heavy body across the floor; thenthe throwing down of the body, and the shaking of my windows in responseto the concussion. In distant parts of the building I heard the muffledslamming of doors. I heard, at intervals, stealthy footsteps creeping inand out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. Sometimes thesenoises approached my door, hesitated, and went away again. I heard theclanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened while theclanking grew nearer--while it wearily climbed the stairways, markingeach move by the loose surplus of chain that fell with an accented rattleupon each succeeding step as the goblin that bore it advanced. I heardmuttered sentences; half-uttered screams that seemed smothered violently;and the swish of invisible garments, the rush of invisible wings. Then Ibecame conscious that my chamber was invaded--that I was not alone.I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious whisperings.Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on the ceilingdirectly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and then dropped--two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They spattered,liquidly, and felt warm. Intuition told me they had turned to gouts ofblood as they fell--I needed no light to satisfy myself of that. Then Isaw pallid faces, dimly luminous, and white uplifted hands, floatingbodiless in the air--floating a moment and then disappearing.The whispering ceased, and the voices and the sounds, and a solemnstillness followed. I waited and listened. I felt that I must havelight or die. I was weak with fear. I slowly raised myself toward asitting posture, and my face came in contact with a clammy hand!All strength went from me apparently, and I fell back like a strickeninvalid. Then I heard the rustle of a garment--it seemed to pass to thedoor and go out.

  When everything was still once more, I crept out of bed, sick and feeble,and lit the gas with a hand that trembled as if it were aged with ahundred years. The light brought some little cheer to my spirits. I satdown and fell into a dreamy contemplation of that great footprint in theashes. By and by its outlines began to waver and grow dim. I glanced upand the broad gas-flame was slowly wilting away. In the same moment Iheard that elephantine tread again. I noted its approach, nearer andnearer, along the musty halls, and dimmer and dimmer the light waned.The tread reached my very door and paused--the light had dwindled to asickly blue, and all things about me lay in a spectral twilight. Thedoor did not open, and yet I felt a faint gust of air fan my cheek, andpresently was conscious of a huge, cloudy presence before me. I watchedit with fascinated eyes. A pale glow stole over the Thing; gradually itscloudy folds took shape--an arm appeared, then legs, then a body, andlast a great sad face looked out of the vapor. Stripped of its filmyhousings, naked, muscular and comely, the majestic Cardiff Giant loomedabove me!

  All my misery vanished--for a child might know that no harm could comewith that benignant countenance. My cheerful spirits returned at once,and in sympathy with them the gas flamed up brightly again. Never alonely outcast was so glad to welcome company as I was to greet thefriendly giant. I said:

  "Why, is it nobody but you? Do you know, I have been scared to death forthe last two or three hours? I am most honestly glad to see you. I wishI had a chair--Here, here, don't try to sit down in that thing--"

  But it was too late. He was in it before I could stop him and down hewent--I never saw a chair shivered so in my life.

  "Stop, stop, you'll ruin ev--"

  Too late again. There was another crash, and another chair was resolvedinto its original elements.

  "Confound it, haven't you got any judgment at all? Do you want to ruinall the furniture on the place? Here, here, you petrified fool--"

  But it was no use. Before I could arrest him he had sat down on the bed,and it was a melancholy ruin.

  "Now what sort of a way is that to do? First you come lumbering aboutthe place bringing a legion of vagabond goblins along with you to worryme to death, and then when I overlook an indelicacy of costume whichwould not be tolerated anywhere by cultivated people except in arespectable theater, and not even there if the nudity were of your sex,you repay me by wrecking all the furniture you can find to sit down on.And why will you? You damage yourself as much as you do me. You havebroken off the
end of your spinal column, and littered up the floor withchips of your hams till the place looks like a marble yard. You ought tobe ashamed of yourself--you are big enough to know better."

  "Well, I will not break any more furniture. But what am I to do? I havenot had a chance to sit down for a century." And the tears came into hiseyes.

  "Poor devil," I said, "I should not have been so harsh with you. And youare an orphan, too, no doubt. But sit down on the floor here--nothingelse can stand your weight--and besides, we cannot be sociable with youaway up there above me; I want you down where I can perch on this highcounting-house stool and gossip with you face to face." So he sat downon the floor, and lit a pipe which I gave him, threw one of my redblankets over his shoulders, inverted my sitz-bath on his head, helmetfashion, and made himself picturesque and comfortable. Then he crossedhis ankles, while I renewed the fire, and exposed the flat, honeycombedbottoms of his prodigious feet to the grateful warmth.

  "What is the matter with the bottom of your feet and the back of yourlegs, that they are gouged up so?"

  "Infernal chilblains--I caught them clear up to the back of my head,roosting out there under Newell's farm. But I love the place; I love itas one loves his old home. There is no peace for me like the peace Ifeel when I am there."

  We talked along for half an hour, and then I noticed that he lookedtired, and spoke of it.

  "Tired?" he said. "Well, I should think so. And now I will tell you allabout it, since you have treated me so well. I am the spirit of thePetrified Man that lies across the street there in the museum. I am theghost of the Cardiff Giant. I can have no rest, no peace, till they havegiven that poor body burial again. Now what was the most natural thingfor me to do, to make men satisfy this wish? Terrify them into it!--haunt the place where the body lay! So I haunted the museum night afternight. I even got other spirits to help me. But it did no good, fornobody ever came to the museum at midnight. Then it occurred to me tocome over the way and haunt this place a little. I felt that if I evergot a hearing I must succeed, for I had the most efficient company thatperdition could furnish. Night after night we have shivered aroundthrough these mildewed halls, dragging chains, groaning, whispering,tramping up and down stairs, till, to tell you the truth, I am almostworn out. But when I saw a light in your room to-night I roused myenergies again and went at it with a deal of the old freshness. But I amtired out--entirely fagged out. Give me, I beseech you, give me somehope!"

  I lit off my perch in a burst of excitement, and exclaimed:

  "This transcends everything! everything that ever did occur! Why youpoor blundering old fossil, you have had all your trouble for nothing--you have been haunting a plaster cast of yourself--the real CardiffGiant is in Albany!--[A fact. The original fraud was ingeniously andfraudfully duplicated, and exhibited in New York as the "only genuine"Cardiff Giant (to the unspeakable disgust of the owners of the realcolossus) at the very same time that the latter was drawing crowds at amuseum in Albany,]--Confound it, don't you know your own remains?"

  I never saw such an eloquent look of shame, of pitiable humiliation,overspread a countenance before.

  The Petrified Man rose slowly to his feet, and said:

  "Honestly, is that true?"

  "As true as I am sitting here."

  He took the pipe from his mouth and laid it on the mantel, then stoodirresolute a moment (unconsciously, from old habit, thrusting his handswhere his pantaloons pockets should have been, and meditatively droppinghis chin on his breast), and finally said:

  "Well-I never felt so absurd before. The Petrified Man has soldeverybody else, and now the mean fraud has ended by selling its ownghost! My son, if there is any charity left in your heart for a poorfriendless phantom like me, don't let this get out. Think how you wouldfeel if you had made such an ass of yourself."

  I heard his stately tramp die away, step by step down the stairs and outinto the deserted street, and felt sorry that he was gone, poor fellow--and sorrier still that he had carried off my red blanket and mybath-tub.