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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12156 ***
+
+NIGHT WATCHES
+
+by W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE SISTERS
+
+Thirty years ago on a wet autumn evening the household of Mallett's
+Lodge was gathered round the death-bed of Ursula Mallow, the eldest of
+the three sisters who inhabited it.  The dingy moth-eaten curtains of
+the old wooden bedstead were drawn apart, the light of a smoking oil-
+lamp falling upon the hopeless countenance of the dying woman as she
+turned her dull eyes upon her sisters.  The room was in silence except
+for an occasional sob from the youngest sister, Eunice.  Outside the
+rain fell steadily over the steaming marshes.
+
+"Nothing is to be changed, Tabitha," gasped Ursula to the other sister,
+who bore a striking likeness to her although her expression was harder
+and colder; "this room is to be locked up and never opened."
+
+"Very well," said Tabitha brusquely, "though I don't see how it can
+matter to you then."
+
+"It does matter," said her sister with startling energy.  "How do you
+know, how do I know that I may not sometimes visit it?  I have lived in
+this house so long I am certain that I shall see it again.  I will come
+back.  Come back to watch over you both and see that no harm befalls
+you."
+
+"You are talking wildly," said Tabitha, by no means moved at her
+sister's solicitude for her welfare.  "Your mind is wandering; you know
+that I have no faith in such things."
+
+Ursula sighed, and beckoning to Eunice, who was weeping silently at the
+bedside, placed her feeble arms around her neck and kissed her.
+
+"Do not weep, dear," she said feebly.  "Perhaps it is best so.  A lonely
+woman's life is scarce worth living.  We have no hopes, no aspirations;
+other women have had happy husbands and children, but we in this
+forgotten place have grown old together.  I go first, but you must soon
+follow."
+
+Tabitha, comfortably conscious of only forty years and an iron frame,
+shrugged her shoulders and smiled grimly.
+
+"I go first," repeated Ursula in a new and strange voice as her heavy
+eyes slowly closed, "but I will come for each of you in turn, when your
+lease of life runs out.  At that moment I will be with you to lead your
+steps whither I now go."
+
+As she spoke the flickering lamp went out suddenly as though
+extinguished by a rapid hand, and the room was left in utter darkness.
+A strange suffocating noise issued from the bed, and when the trembling
+women had relighted the lamp, all that was left of Ursula Mallow was
+ready for the grave.
+
+That night the survivors passed together.  The dead woman had been a
+firm believer in the existence of that shadowy borderland which is said
+to form an unhallowed link between the living and the dead, and even the
+stolid Tabitha, slightly unnerved by the events of the night, was not
+free from certain apprehensions that she might have been right.
+
+With the bright morning their fears disappeared.  The sun stole in at
+the window, and seeing the poor earth-worn face on the pillow so touched
+it and glorified it that only its goodness and weakness were seen, and
+the beholders came to wonder how they could ever have felt any dread of
+aught so calm and peaceful.  A day or two passed, and the body was
+transferred to a massive coffin long regarded as the finest piece of
+work of its kind ever turned out of the village carpenter's workshop.
+Then a slow and melancholy cortege headed by four bearers wound its
+solemn way across the marshes to the family vault in the grey old
+church, and all that was left of Ursula was placed by the father and
+mother who had taken that self-same journey some thirty years before.
+
+To Eunice as they toiled slowly home the day seemed strange and Sabbath-
+like, the flat prospect of marsh wilder and more forlorn than usual, the
+roar of the sea more depressing.  Tabitha had no such fancies.  The bulk
+of the dead woman's property had been left to Eunice, and her avaricious
+soul was sorely troubled and her proper sisterly feelings of regret for
+the deceased sadly interfered with in consequence.
+
+"What are you going to do with all that money, Eunice?" she asked as
+they sat at their quiet tea.
+
+"I shall leave it as it stands," said Eunice slowly.  "We have both got
+sufficient to live upon, and I shall devote the income from it to
+supporting some beds in a children's hospital."
+
+"If Ursula had wished it to go to a hospital," said Tabitha in her deep
+tones, "she would have left the money to it herself.  I wonder you do
+not respect her wishes more."
+
+"What else can I do with it then?" inquired Eunice.
+
+"Save it," said the other with gleaming eyes, "save it."
+
+Eunice shook her head.
+
+"No," said she, "it shall go to the sick children, but the principal I
+will not touch, and if I die before you it shall become yours and you
+can do what you like with it."
+
+"Very well," said Tabitha, smothering her anger by a strong effort; "I
+don't believe that was what Ursula meant you to do with it, and I don't
+believe she will rest quietly in the grave while you squander the money
+she stored so carefully."
+
+"What do you mean?"  asked Eunice with pale lips.  "You are trying to
+frighten me; I thought that you did not believe in such things."
+
+Tabitha made no answer, and to avoid the anxious inquiring gaze of her
+sister, drew her chair to the fire, and folding her gaunt arms, composed
+herself for a nap.
+
+For some time life went on quietly in the old house.  The room of the
+dead woman, in accordance with her last desire, was kept firmly locked,
+its dirty windows forming a strange contrast to the prim cleanliness of
+the others.  Tabitha, never very talkative, became more taciturn than
+ever, and stalked about the house and the neglected garden like an
+unquiet spirit, her brow roughened into the deep wrinkles suggestive of
+much thought.  As the winter came on, bringing with it the long dark
+evenings, the old house became more lonely than ever, and an air of
+mystery and dread seemed to hang over it and brood in its empty rooms
+and dark corridors.  The deep silence of night was broken by strange
+noises for which neither the wind nor the rats could be held
+accountable.  Old Martha, seated in her distant kitchen, heard strange
+sounds upon the stairs, and once, upon hurrying to them, fancied that
+she saw a dark figure squatting upon the landing, though a subsequent
+search with candle and spectacles failed to discover anything.  Eunice
+was disturbed by several vague incidents, and, as she suffered from a
+complaint of the heart, rendered very ill by them.  Even Tabitha
+admitted a strangeness about the house, but, confident in her piety and
+virtue, took no heed of it, her mind being fully employed in another
+direction.
+
+Since the death of her sister all restraint upon her was removed, and
+she yielded herself up entirely to the stern and hard rules enforced by
+avarice upon its devotees.  Her housekeeping expenses were kept rigidly
+separate from those of Eunice and her food limited to the coarsest
+dishes, while in the matter of clothes, the old servant was by far the
+better dressed.  Seated alone in her bedroom this uncouth, hard-featured
+creature revelled in her possessions, grudging even the expense of the
+candle-end which enabled her to behold them.  So completely did this
+passion change her that both Eunice and Martha became afraid of her, and
+lay awake in their beds night after night trembling at the chinking of
+the coins at her unholy vigils.
+
+One day Eunice ventured to remonstrate.  "Why don't you bank your money,
+Tabitha?" she said; "it is surely not safe to keep such large sums in
+such a lonely house."
+
+"Large sums!" repeated the exasperated Tabitha, "large sums!  what
+nonsense is this?  You know well that I have barely sufficient to keep
+me."
+
+"It's a great temptation to housebreakers," said her sister, not
+pressing the point.  "I made sure last night that I heard somebody in
+the house."
+
+"Did you?"  said Tabitha, grasping her arm, a horrible look on her face.
+"So did I.  I thought they went to Ursula's room, and I got out of bed
+and went on the stairs to listen."
+
+"Well?" said Eunice faintly, fascinated by the look on her sister's
+face.
+
+"There was something there," said Tabitha slowly.  "I'll swear it, for I
+stood on the landing by her door and listened; something scuffling on
+the floor round and round the room.  At first I thought it was the cat,
+but when I went up there this morning the door was still locked, and the
+cat was in the kitchen."
+
+"Oh, let us leave this dreadful house," moaned Eunice.
+
+"What!" said her sister grimly; "afraid of poor Ursula?  Why should you
+be?  Your own sister who nursed you when you were a babe, and who
+perhaps even now comes and watches over your slumbers."
+
+"Oh!" said Eunice, pressing her hand to her side, "if I saw her I should
+die.  I should think that she had come for me as she said she would. O
+God! have mercy on me, I am dying."
+
+She reeled as she spoke, and before Tabitha could save her, sank
+senseless to the floor.
+
+"Get some water," cried Tabitha, as old Martha came hurrying up the
+stairs, "Eunice has fainted."
+
+The old woman, with a timid glance at her, retired, reappearing shortly
+afterwards with the water, with which she proceeded to restore her much-
+loved mistress to her senses.  Tabitha, as soon as this was
+accomplished, stalked off to her room, leaving her sister and Martha
+sitting drearily enough in the small parlour, watching the fire and
+conversing in whispers.
+
+It was clear to the old servant that this state of things could not last
+much longer, and she repeatedly urged her mistress to leave a house so
+lonely and so mysterious.  To her great delight Eunice at length
+consented, despite the fierce opposition of her sister, and at the mere
+idea of leaving gained greatly in health and spirits.  A small but
+comfortable house was hired in Morville, and arrangements made for a
+speedy change.
+
+It was the last night in the old house, and all the wild spirits of the
+marshes, the wind and the sea seemed to have joined forces for one
+supreme effort.  When the wind dropped, as it did at brief intervals,
+the sea was heard moaning on the distant beach, strangely mingled with
+the desolate warning of the bell-buoy as it rocked to the waves.  Then
+the wind rose again, and the noise of the sea was lost in the fierce
+gusts which, finding no obstacle on the open marshes, swept with their
+full fury upon the house by the creek.  The strange voices of the air
+shrieked in its chimneys windows rattled, doors slammed, and even, the
+very curtains seemed to live and move.
+
+Eunice was in bed, awake.  A small nightlight in a saucer of oil shed a
+sickly glare upon the worm-eaten old furniture, distorting the most
+innocent articles into ghastly shapes.  A wilder gust than usual almost
+deprived her of the protection afforded by that poor light, and she lay
+listening fearfully to the creakings and other noises on the stairs,
+bitterly regretting that she had not asked Martha to sleep with her.
+But it was not too late even now.  She slipped hastily to the floor,
+crossed to the huge wardrobe, and was in the very act of taking her
+dressing-gown from its peg when an unmistakable footfall was heard on
+the stairs.  The robe dropped from her shaking fingers, and with a
+quickly beating heart she regained her bed.
+
+The sounds ceased and a deep silence followed, which she herself was
+unable to break although she strove hard to do so.  A wild gust of wind
+shook the windows and nearly extinguished the light, and when its flame
+had regained its accustomed steadiness she saw that the door was slowly
+opening, while the huge shadow of a hand blotted the papered wall.
+Still her tongue refused its office.  The door flew open with a crash, a
+cloaked figure entered and, throwing aside its coverings, she saw with a
+horror past all expression the napkin-bound face of the dead Ursula
+smiling terribly at her.  In her last extremity she raised her faded
+eyes above for succour, and then as the figure noiselessly advanced and
+laid its cold hand upon her brow, the soul of Eunice Mallow left its
+body with a wild shriek and made its way to the Eternal.
+
+Martha, roused by the cry, and shivering with dread, rushed to the door
+and gazed in terror at the figure which stood leaning over the bedside.
+As she watched, it slowly removed the cowl and the napkin and exposed
+the fell face of Tabitha, so strangely contorted between fear and
+triumph that she hardly recognized it.
+
+"Who's there?" cried Tabitha in a terrible voice as she saw the old
+woman's shadow on the wall.
+
+"I thought I heard a cry," said Martha, entering.  "Did anybody call?"
+
+"Yes, Eunice," said the other, regarding her closely.  "I, too, heard
+the cry, and hurried to her.  What makes her so strange?  Is she in a
+trance?"
+
+"Ay," said the old woman, falling on her knees by the bed and sobbing
+bitterly, "the trance of death.  Ah, my dear, my poor lonely girl, that
+this should be the end of it!  She has died of fright," said the old
+woman, pointing to the eyes, which even yet retained their horror.  "She
+has seen something devilish."
+
+Tabitha's gaze fell.  "She has always suffered with her heart," she
+muttered; "the night has frightened her; it frightened me."
+
+She stood upright by the foot of the bed as Martha drew the sheet over
+the face of the dead woman.
+
+"First Ursula, then Eunice," said Tabitha, drawing a deep breath.  "I
+can't stay here.  I'll dress and wait for the morning."
+
+She left the room as she spoke, and with bent head proceeded to her own.
+Martha remained by the bedside, and gently closing the staring eyes,
+fell on her knees, and prayed long and earnestly for the departed soul.
+Overcome with grief and fear she remained with bowed head until a sudden
+sharp cry from Tabitha brought her to her feet.
+
+"Well," said the old woman, going to the door.
+
+"Where are you?" cried Tabitha, somewhat reassured by her voice.
+
+"In Miss Eunice's bedroom.  Do you want anything?"
+
+"Come down at once.  Quick!  I am unwell."
+
+Her voice rose suddenly to a scream.  "Quick!  For God's sake!  Quick,
+or I shall go mad.  There is some strange woman in the house."
+
+The old woman stumbled hastily down the dark stairs.  "What is the
+matter?"  she cried, entering the room.  "Who is it?  What do you mean?"
+
+"I saw it," said Tabitha, grasping her convulsively by the shoulder.  "I
+was coming to you when I saw the figure of a woman in front of me going
+up the stairs.  Is it--can it be Ursula come for the soul of Eunice, as
+she said she would?"
+
+"Or for yours?"  said Martha, the words coming from her in some odd
+fashion, despite herself.
+
+Tabitha, with a ghastly look, fell cowering by her side, clutching
+tremulously at her clothes.  "Light the lamps," she cried hysterically.
+"Light a fire, make a noise; oh, this dreadful darkness!  Will it never
+be day!"
+
+"Soon, soon," said Martha, overcoming her repugnance and trying to
+pacify her.  "When the day comes you will laugh at these fears."
+
+"I murdered her," screamed the miserable woman, "I killed her with
+fright.  Why did she not give me the money?  'Twas no use to her.  Ah!
+Look there!"
+
+Martha, with a horrible fear, followed her glance to the door, but saw
+nothing.
+
+"It's Ursula," said Tabitha from between her teeth.  "Keep her off!
+Keep her off!"
+
+The old woman, who by some unknown sense seemed to feel the presence of
+a third person in the room, moved a step forward and stood before her.
+As she did so Tabitha waved her arms as though to free herself from the
+touch of a detaining hand, half rose to her feet, and without a word
+fell dead before her.
+
+At this the old woman's courage forsook her, and with a great cry she
+rushed from the room, eager to escape from this house of death and
+mystery.  The bolts of the great door were stiff with age, and strange
+voices seemed to ring in her ears as she strove wildly to unfasten them.
+Her brain whirled.  She thought that the dead in their distant rooms
+called to her, and that a devil stood on the step outside laughing and
+holding the door against her.  Then with a supreme effort she flung it
+open, and heedless of her night-clothes passed into the bitter night.
+The path across the marshes was lost in the darkness, but she found it;
+the planks over the ditches slippery and narrow, but she crossed them in
+safety, until at last, her feet bleeding and her breath coming in great
+gasps, she entered the village and sank down more dead than alive on a
+cottage doorstep.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Sisters, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12156 ***