Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1883 — An English Ghost Story. [ARTICLE]

An English Ghost Story.

The breed of ghosts appear to be not quite extinct in England yet. Seldom, however, has one of these shadowy visitants the hardihood to expose itself to such unobstructed and point-blank investigations as did the phantom which introduced itself the other day to Mr. C - G , the son of the well-known Admiral C G . One day at the beginning of this month Mr. C——G—— was going to call on the Duke of R--- at B--- castle, and he probably did not trouble his head much about things hereafter, when he found himself at a small country station, seme miles from his destination, with no vehicle to get him over the muddy country lanes in between. After worrying around a bit, however, he succeeded in hiring a trap—-a common-place dogcart enough, with nothing ghostly about it—and a horse that looked as if with good management might hang together in this life for a few weeks yet. Not a man could be found who would accompany him to look after the beast; so, having done grumbling, Mr. C G took the reins himself and started for B-- castle. Nor was there anything to suggest ghosts in the drive there; and the Duke of R-- was as real and fleshy as a well-conducted Duke ought to be. So far, then, the odds seemed all against a ghost finding room to come into the day’s events. When Mr. C— G--- , however, had got half-way back to the station he passed a pond by the roadside which he had not noticed on his way. Turning round to look at it, he was astonished to find that there was another man on the trap, sitting back to back to himself- The stranger was to all appearances a farm laborer, dressed in corduroy and red neck-cloth. Mr. C---G--- at once concluded that his companion had been sent after him by the inn-keeper from whom, he had hired the trap ; but what puzzled him was how and where a stout farm laborer in hobnailed boots could have climed up without his feeling it. The shortest way to settle this was to ask him; but, unfortunately the intruder paid no attention to the question, and seemed quite unconscious of anything when Mr. C---G--- shouted commonplaces on the weather at the top of his voice. Nothing remained, therefore, but to whip up the dilapidated horse and while away the rest of the journey with cursing the innkeeper who could find no better man to send him than a deaf and dumb farm laborer. On arriving at the inn Mr. C--- G---- handed the reins back to the stranger and walked into the house. Meeting the landlord his first remark was naturally on the sort of man the other had seen fit to send after him. “What man?” was the reply; “I sent no man after you.” “Surely you did,” said Mr. C---G--- , “a man in corduroy, with a red scarf round his neck.” “Good God, sir” returned the other, “that man was drowned an hour ago, and is up-stairs now!” “Nonsense. He is on your trap now; come and see.” However, he was not in the trap; that was empty. So Mr. C--- G---- followed the landlord up-stairs, and there on a bed lay his companion of the dog-cart, —cordury, red neck-cloth and all—-j dead. He had been found drowned half an hour before Mr. C— — G—passed, in the very pond close by he had taken his seat in the and had apparently availed himself of the first passing vehicle to get a lift to the place where his body lay!