Weird Tales/Volume 10/Issue 3/The Turret Room
The Turret Room
By August W. Derleth
Lord Alving stopped in the act of lighting his cheroot. He turned slowly toward the Earl of Kent loudly addressing a small group about him. He smiled quizzically and spoke.
"I say, old fellow," said Lord Alving, "are you quite certain of the element of truth in everything you say?"
The conversation stopped, automatically it seemed. The Earl of Kent raised his eyebrows in a mock serious gesture. Lord Alving remained smiling, the unlighted cheroot in his hand.
"For instance, what, Alving?"
"The exact words were these, I believe: 'Ghosts. . . balderdash, poppycock.'" He paused. "You said that, didn't you?"
"Yes, I believe I did."
"And you meant it?"
"Of course, Alving."
The ladies had stopped bridge and stood about in a small circle. Lady Montross idly stirred a cup of tea. Lady Alving had come away from her table with a royal flush in her hand. The Duke of Gloucester stood looking at it in the small silence.
"You believe every word of it, too, eh, old man?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then let me tell you something, something that happened to me about seven years ago down at the Duke of Gloucester's castle. There was rather an excellent crowd; trust the Duke to make a pleasing selection. We were gathered about the dinner table one evening, and somehow we began to talk about the supernatural. We were rather amused at some of the theories of our Lodge, of Lombroso, and of Flammarion. The Duke didn't say much; he just sat and listened. Nor did he say anything until conversation began to lag. Then suddenly he said: 'It may interest you to know that the turret room of the center tower of my castle is supposed to be haunted.' 'Not really!' chorused several of us. But he was perfectly serious; I've never seen him more so."
Several of the company turned to the Duke of Gloucester. His calm smile verified Lord Alving's statement.
"'Do you mean to say,' said I, 'that if I'd spend a night in the turret room, I'd see a ghost?' 'I see no reason why you shouldn't,' he replied immediately. Without hesitation, I said, 'I'll spend tonight there. It'll take an unusual manifestation to scare me out.' The Duke protested, but I persisted. At length he gave in. I wanted to be shown right up; I could hardly wait. On the stairs I turned and shouted down, 'If I see a ghost, you 'll all hear about it.' 'And if you don't?' came from someone below. All of you remember Harry Longworth, the poet, don't you? I was sure that you did. Harry was there, and Harry shouted back, 'And if you don't, I'll send one up to you.' Everybody laughed, and I followed the servant up to the haunted room.
"There was nothing conspicuous about the room, except perhaps the dust. The room had never been used; the mere thought of a specter will scare people away very easily, it seems. The moonlight streamed in through the latticed windows. I brushed the dust from one of the antique chairs and sat down. All of you know that the Duke tolls the hours with his ancient alarum bell. I had come into the turret room as the bell tolled 10 o'clock. I sat patiently waiting for some supernatural manifestation until somewhat after 12. I was disappointed, very much so. I had almost expected to see some long-dead cavaliers fight a duel before my eyes, or some atrocious murder committed. I allowed myself to go to sleep.
"The alarum bell was tolling 2 when I woke up. I had a queer feeling; I knew that there was someone else in the room. The patch of moonlight had moved considerably; it now fell aslant the dust-covered bed. On the edge of the bed, in the moonlight, sat Harry, grinning foolishly. I had completely forgotten him.
"'Sap!' said I. 'Do you want to scare me to death?' He kept right on grinning. 'Lucky you came up, though,' I continued, 'it was becoming odiously monotonous up here.' He nodded a little, and grinned some more. 'Haven't got a deck of cards with you, have you?' I asked. He shook his head. I walked over to the window and looked out. There was a beautiful view. 'Fine view, Harry. Come here. 'But he didn't come, and when I turned around he had gone. I supposed he had gone for a deck of cards, and I waited accordingly., He didn't come back.
"In the morning I told the Duke what I thought of his haunted room. I told him that all I had seen was Harry. He looked as if you could have knocked him over with a feather; he's not so small either."
Lord Alving slowly lit the cheroot he had been holding.
"And what does that make of my idea of ghosts, Alving?" asked the Earl of Kent, smiling.
"Where does the ghost part come in?" asked the Duchess of York.
"Yes," said Lady Montross, "where is the ghost?"
"It doesn't prove anything to me, Alving," said the Earl of Kent.
"No? It didn't to me, either, until the Duke of Gloucester told me that Harry had died between 1 and 2 that morning of a sudden stroke of apoplexy."