The Silent House
h by press and people, curiosity concerning it was still active in Geneva Square. The gossips in that talkative quarter
icion; that he had no enemies; and had withdrawn to the Silent House to save himself from the machinations of purely imaginary bein
to its reputation for being haunted, invested it with horror; and its commonplace looks assumed to fa
t to relet it, as he knew very well that no tenant would be bold enough to take it, even at a nominal rent. Mrs. Vrain had sold off the f
d cursed by God, remained vacant and avoided. People came from far and near to look at it, but no one entered its doors lest some evil fate s
r of Vrain, and being unable to come to any reasonable conclusion, finally decided that a ghost-the ghost which haunted the mansion-had committed the crime. In suppo
"and looks of horror in their eyes, and everything locked up, just like
pantly, "poor Vrain was stabbed with a sti
rrified whisper. "Was it ever seen? No! Was it ever found? No! The ghost took it away. Dep
l, with a laugh. "But it's all nonsense, Miss Greeb. I am astoni
aven't you heard of the haunted house in a West End square, where a man and a dog
t's a story of B
an see the very house in the square for y
to-morrow night, just to prove that
she cried, with great energy, "sooner than you shou
laughing. "Make yourself easy, Miss Greeb. I have no intention of tempting Pr
en flitting fro
over the house before he died.
since his death," sai
ng about with the old woman phantom wh
books on the supernatural compiled from the imagination-or, as the various writers called it-the experience of others. Some agreed with her, others laughed at her; but one and all acknowledged that, however it c
inclined to take this view of the matter. He found the dete
did not get on well with his wife, and left Bath ten months before the murder. I tried to trace where he went to, but could not. He vanished from Bath quite unexpectedly, and
ward of five hundred
ned the dejected Link. "This case beats me. I do
the Vrain case was ended, and that in the face of the insuperable obstacles presented by it there was not the slightest
Diana Vrain, and, having intimated that the writer had returned only that week from Australia, requested that Mr. Denzil would be kind enough to call the next day at the Roya
e him so particularly, Lucian, out of sheer curiosity, obeyed the summons. Next day, at four o'clock-the appointed hour-he presented himself a
s. Vrain than her stepdaughter can scarcely be imagined: the one was a frivolous, volatile fairy, the other a dignified and reserved woman. She also was arrayed in black garments, but these were made in the plainest manner, and showed none of the
ards this beautiful, sad woman as formerly he had been repulsed
Miss Vrain in a deep voice, rather melancholy in its to
an, taking a chair to which she pointed, "but on con
rs. Vrain since I returned, a week ago, to London. I got your address fr
ve seen
ve, and gave me to understand that on two occasions you had spoken with my father; therefore,
Vrain. I suppose you wish to lea
aid Diana quietly. "I wish you to help me
intend to re
out in Australia I was with some friends in a part of the country where it is difficult to get letters. As soon as Mrs. Vrain's letter about the terrible end of my father came to hand I arranged my aff
help you, Miss Vrain,"
refuse to
she should think him so hard-hearted, "but I know of nothing likely to solve the myste
woman's wit can do more than a man's logic, so you and I must put our
cion," replied Lucia
I suspect
. Vr
o you know
time I suspect
ied Diana. "I believe that Mr