The Third Macabre MEGAPACK®. Lafcadio Hearn

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      “I hesitated. They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting than the darkness outside.

      “‘You are very kind,’ I murmured, irresolutely, ‘but—’

      “‘Come in,’ he said quickly; ‘shut the door, Anne.’

      “Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman, muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me. With a queer sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire.

      “‘Dinner will soon be ready,’ said the old man, regarding me closely. ‘If you will excuse me.’

      “I bowed and he left the room. A minute afterward I heard voices; his and the old woman’s, and, I fancied, a third. Before I had finished my inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange look I had noticed before.

      “‘There will be three of us at dinner,’ he said, at length. ‘We two and my son.’

      “I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn’t run in the family.

      “‘I suppose you don’t mind dining in the dark,’ he said, abruptly.

      “‘Not at all,’ I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, ‘but really I’m afraid I’m intruding. If you’ll allow me—’

      “He waved his huge gaunt hands. ‘We’re not going to lose you now we’ve got you,’ he said, with a dry laugh. ‘It’s seldom we have company, and now we’ve got you we’ll keep you. My son’s eyes are bad, and he can’t stand the light. Ah, here is Anne.’

      “As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the hearth, sat looking silently into the fire. The table set, the old woman brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three chairs, left the room. The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly extinguished the candles.

      “‘Blind man’s holiday,’ he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his way to the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him, and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming oppressive.

      “‘A cold night,’ it said slowly.

      “I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the day. It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to dining under such circumstances as I was. We ate in silence until the old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a crash upon the table.

      “‘Are you a stranger about here?’ inquired the curious voice again.

      “I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in stumbling upon such a good dinner.

      “‘Stumbling is a very good word for it,’ said the voice grimly. ‘You have forgotten the port, father.’

      “‘So I have,’ said the old man, rising. ‘It’s a bottle of the “Celebrated” today; I will get it myself.’

      “He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone with my unseen neighbour. There was something so strange about the whole business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness.

      “My host seemed to be absent a long time. I heard the man opposite lay down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes shining through the gloom like a cat’s.

      “With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back. It caught the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of the creature opposite. With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair and stood with clenched fists beside it. Man or beast, which was it? The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the fire it looked more devilish than before.

      “For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door opened and the old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a couple of bottles.

      “‘I beg your pardon,’ said I, reassured by his presence, ‘but I have accidentally overturned the screen. Allow me to replace it.’

      “‘No,’ said the old man, gently, ‘let it be. We have had enough of the dark. I’ll give you a light.’

      “He struck a match and slowly lit the candles. Then—I saw that the man opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered. I was greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me.

      “‘My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,’ said the old man. ‘Since then we have lived a very retired life. When you came to the door we—’ his voice trembled, ‘that is—my son—’

      “‘I thought,” said the son simply, ‘that it would be better for me not to come to the dinner-table. But it happens to be my birthday, and my father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish plan of dining in the dark. I’m sorry I startled you.’

      “‘I am sorry,’ said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his hand, ‘that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you startled me.’

      “From a faint tinge in the old man’s cheek and a certain pleasant softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly congratulated myself upon this last remark.

      “‘We never see a friend,’ said the old man, apologetically, ‘and the temptation to have company was too much for us. Besides, I don’t know what else you could have done.’

      “‘Nothing else half so good, I’m sure,’ said I.

      “‘Come,’ said my host, with almost a sprightly air. ‘Now we know each other, draw our chairs to the fire and let’s keep this birthday in a proper fashion.’

      “He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit down and drink. If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen. The night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in a lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve.

      “‘A last toast before we retire,’ said my host, pitching the end of his cigar into the fire and turning to the small table.

      “We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in the old man’s manner as he rose and took up his glass. His tall figure seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his disfigured son.

      “‘The СКАЧАТЬ