第1章

TheLostDuchessTheMinorCanonThePipeThePuzzleTheGreatValdezSapphireModernEnglishMysteryStoriesRudyardKiplingMyOwnTrueGhostStoryAsIcamethroughtheDesertthusitwas——

AsIcamethroughtheDesert。

TheCityofDreadfulNight。

SomewhereintheOtherWorld，wheretherearebooksandpicturesandplaysandshopwindowstolookat，andthousandsofmenwhospendtheirlivesinbuildingupallfour，livesagentlemanwhowritesrealstoriesabouttherealinsidesofpeople；andhisnameisMr。WalterBesant。Buthewillinsistupontreatinghisghosts——

hehaspublishedhalfaworkshopfulofthem——withlevity。Hemakeshisghost-seerstalkfamiliarly，and，insomecases，flirtoutrageously，withthephantoms。Youmaytreatanything，fromaViceroytoaVernacularPaper，withlevity；butyoumustbehavereverentlytowardaghost，andparticularlyanIndianone。

Thereare，inthisland，ghostswhotaketheformoffat，cold，pobbycorpses，andhideintreesneartheroadsidetillatravelerpasses。Thentheydropuponhisneckandremain。Therearealsoterribleghostsofwomenwhohavediedinchild-bed。Thesewanderalongthepathwaysatdusk，orhideinthecropsnearavillage，andcallseductively。Buttoanswertheircallisdeathinthisworldandthenext。Theirfeetareturnedbackwardthatallsobermenmayrecognizethem。Thereareghostsoflittlechildrenwhohavebeenthrownintowells。Thesehauntwellcurbsandthefringesofjungles，andwailunderthestars，orcatchwomenbythewristandbegtobetakenupandcarried。Theseandthecorpseghosts，however，areonlyvernaculararticlesanddonotattackSahibs。NonativeghosthasyetbeenauthenticallyreportedtohavefrightenedanEnglishman；butmanyEnglishghostshavescaredthelifeoutofbothwhiteandblack。

NearlyeveryotherStationownsaghost。TherearesaidtobetwoatSimla，notcountingthewomanwhoblowsthebellowsatSyreedak-bungalowontheOldRoad；MussooriehasahousehauntedofaverylivelyThing；aWhiteLadyissupposedtodonight-watchmanroundahouseinLahore；Dalhousiesaysthatoneofherhouses“repeats“onautumneveningsalltheincidentsofahorriblehorse-

and-precipiceaccident；Murreehasamerryghost，and，nowthatshehasbeensweptbycholera，willhaveroomforasorrowfulone；

thereareOfficers’QuartersinMianMirwhosedoorsopenwithoutreason，andwhosefurnitureisguaranteedtocreak，notwiththeheatofJunebutwiththeweightofInvisibleswhocometoloungeinthechairs；Peshawurpossesseshousesthatnonewillwillinglyrent；andthereissomething——notfever——wrongwithabigbungalowinAllahabad。TheolderProvincessimplybristlewithhauntedhouses，andmarchphantomarmiesalongtheirmainthoroughfares。

Someofthedak-bungalowsontheGrandTrunkRoadhavehandylittlecemeteriesintheircompound——witnessestothe“changesandchancesofthismortallife“inthedayswhenmendrovefromCalcuttatotheNorthwest。Thesebungalowsareobjectionableplacestoputupin。Theyaregenerallyveryold，alwaysdirty，whilethekhansamahisasancientasthebungalow。Heeitherchatterssenilely，orfallsintothelongtrancesofage。Inbothmoodsheisuseless。

Ifyougetangrywithhim，hereferstosomeSahibdeadandburiedthesethirtyyears，andsaysthatwhenhewasinthatSahib’sservicenotakhansamahintheProvincecouldtouchhim。Thenhejabbersandmowsandtremblesandfidgetsamongthedishes，andyourepentofyourirritation。

Inthesedak-bungalows，ghostsaremostlikelytobefound，andwhenfound，theyshouldbemadeanoteof。Notlongagoitwasmybusinesstoliveindak-bungalows。Ineverinhabitedthesamehouseforthreenightsrunning，andgrewtobelearnedinthebreed。IlivedinGovernment-builtoneswithredbrickwallsandrailceilings，aninventoryofthefurniturepostedineveryroom，andanexcitedsnakeatthethresholdtogivewelcome。Ilivedin“converted“ones——oldhousesofficiatingasdak-bungalows——wherenothingwasinitsproperplaceandtherewasn’tevenafowlfordinner。Ilivedinsecond-handpalaceswherethewindblewthroughopen-workmarbletraceryjustasuncomfortablyasthroughabrokenpane。Ilivedindak-bungalowswherethelastentryinthevisitors’bookwasfifteenmonthsold，andwheretheyslashedoffthecurry-kid’sheadwithasword。Itwasmygoodlucktomeetallsortsofmen，fromsobertravelingmissionariesanddesertersflyingfromBritishRegiments，todrunkenloaferswhothrewwhiskybottlesatallwhopassed；andmystillgreatergoodfortunejusttoescapeamaternitycase。Seeingthatafairproportionofthetragedyofourlivesouthereacteditselfindak-bungalows，I

wonderedthatIhadmetnoghosts。Aghostthatwouldvoluntarilyhangaboutadak-bungalowwouldbemadofcourse；butsomanymenhavediedmadindak-bungalowsthattheremustbeafairpercentageoflunaticghosts。

InduetimeIfoundmyghost，orghostsrather，forthereweretwoofthem。UptillthathourIhadsympathizedwithMr。Besant’smethodofhandlingthem，asshownin“TheStrangeCaseofMr。

LucraftandOtherStories。“IamnowintheOpposition。

WewillcallthebungalowKatmaldak-bungalow。ButTHATwasthesmallestpartofthehorror。Amanwithasensitivehidehasnorighttosleepindak-bungalows。Heshouldmarry。Katmaldak-

bungalowwasoldandrottenandunrepaired。Thefloorwasofwornbrick，thewallswerefilthy，andthewindowswerenearlyblackwithgrime。ItstoodonabypathlargelyusedbynativeSub-DeputyAssistantsofallkinds，fromFinancetoForests；butrealSahibswererare。Thekhansamah，whowasnearlybentdoublewitholdage，saidso。

WhenIarrived，therewasafitful，undecidedrainonthefaceoftheland，accompaniedbyarestlesswind，andeverygustmadeanoiseliketherattlingofdrybonesinthestifftoddypalmsoutside。Thekhansamahcompletelylosthisheadonmyarrival。HehadservedaSahibonce。DidIknowthatSahib？Hegavemethenameofawell-knownmanwhohasbeenburiedformorethanaquarterofacentury，andshowedmeanancientdaguerreotypeofthatmaninhisprehistoricyouth。IhadseenasteelengravingofhimattheheadofadoublevolumeofMemoirsamonthbefore，andI

feltancientbeyondtelling。

Thedayshutinandthekhansamahwenttogetmefood。Hedidnotgothroughthepretenseofcallingit“khana“——man’svictuals。Hesaid“ratub，“andthatmeans，amongotherthings，“grub“——dog’srations。Therewasnoinsultinhischoiceoftheterm。Hehadforgottentheotherword，Isuppose。

Whilehewascuttingupthedeadbodiesofanimals，Isettledmyselfdown，afterexploringthedak-bungalow。Therewerethreerooms，besidemyown，whichwasacornerkennel，eachgivingintotheotherthroughdingywhitedoorsfastenedwithlongironbars。

Thebungalowwasaverysolidone，butthepartitionwallsoftheroomswerealmostjerry-builtintheirflimsiness。Everysteporbangofatrunkechoedfrommyroomdowntheotherthree，andeveryfootfallcamebacktremulouslyfromthefarwalls。ForthisreasonIshutthedoor。Therewerenolamps——onlycandlesinlongglassshades。Anoilwickwassetinthebathroom。

Forbleak，unadulteratedmiserythatdak-bungalowwastheworstofthemanythatIhadeversetfootin。Therewasnofireplace，andthewindowswouldnotopen；soabrazierofcharcoalwouldhavebeenuseless。Therainandthewindsplashedandgurgledandmoanedroundthehouse，andthetoddypalmsrattledandroared。

Halfadozenjackalswentthroughthecompoundsinging，andahyenastoodafaroffandmockedthem。AhyenawouldconvinceaSadduceeoftheResurrectionoftheDead——theworstsortofDead。Thencametheratub——acuriousmeal，halfnativeandhalfEnglishincomposition——withtheoldkhansamahbabblingbehindmychairaboutdeadandgoneEnglishpeople，andthewind-blowncandlesplayingshadow-bo-peepwiththebedandthemosquito-curtains。Itwasjustthesortofdinnerandeveningtomakeamanthinkofeverysingleoneofhispastsins，andofalltheothersthatheintendedtocommitifhelived。

Sleep，forseveralhundredreasons，wasnoteasy。Thelampinthebath-roomthrewthemostabsurdshadowsintotheroom，andthewindwasbeginningtotalknonsense。

Justwhenthereasonsweredrowsywithblood-suckingIheardtheregular——“Let——us——take——and——heave——him——over“gruntofdoolie-

bearersinthecompound。Firstonedooliecamein，thenasecond，andthenathird。Iheardthedooliesdumpedontheground，andtheshutterinfrontofmydoorshook。“That’ssomeonetryingtocomein，“Isaid。Butnoonespoke，andIpersuadedmyselfthatitwasthegustywind。Theshutteroftheroomnexttominewasattacked，flungback，andtheinnerdooropened。“That’ssomeSub-

DeputyAssistant，“Isaid，“andhehasbroughthisfriendswithhim。Nowthey’lltalkandspitandsmokeforanhour。“

Buttherewerenovoicesandnofootsteps。Noonewasputtinghisluggageintothenextroom。Thedoorshut，andIthankedProvidencethatIwastobeleftinpeace。ButIwascurioustoknowwherethedoolieshadgone。Igotoutofbedandlookedintothedarkness。Therewasneverasignofadoolie。JustasIwasgettingintobedagain，Iheard，inthenextroom，thesoundthatnomaninhissensescanpossiblymistake——thewhirofabilliardballdownthelengthoftheslateswhenthestrikerisstringingforbreak。Noothersoundislikeit。Aminuteafterwardstherewasanotherwhir，andIgotintobed。Iwasnotfrightened——indeedIwasnot。Iwasverycurioustoknowwhathadbecomeofthedoolies。Ijumpedintobedforthatreason。

NextminuteIheardthedoubleclickofacannonandmyhairsatup。Itisamistaketosaythathairstandsup。Theskinoftheheadtightensandyoucanfeelafaint，prickly，bristlingalloverthescalp。Thatisthehairsittingup。

Therewasawhirandaclick，andbothsoundscouldonlyhavebeenmadebyonething——abilliardball。Iarguedthematteroutatgreatlengthwithmyself；andthemoreIarguedthelessprobableitseemedthatonebed，onetable，andtwochairs——allthefurnitureoftheroomnexttomine——couldsoexactlyduplicatethesoundsofagameofbilliards。Afteranothercannon，athree-

cushiononetojudgebythewhir，Iarguednomore。Ihadfoundmyghostandwouldhavegivenworldstohaveescapedfromthatdak-

bungalow。Ilistened，andwitheachlistenthegamegrewclearer。

Therewaswhironwhirandclickonclick。Sometimestherewasadoubleclickandawhirandanotherclick。Beyondanysortofdoubt，peoplewereplayingbilliardsinthenextroom。Andthenextroomwasnotbigenoughtoholdabilliardtable！

BetweenthepausesofthewindIheardthegamegoforward——strokeafterstroke。ItriedtobelievethatIcouldnothearvoices；butthatattemptwasafailure。

Doyouknowwhatfearis？Notordinaryfearofinsult，injuryordeath，butabject，quiveringdreadofsomethingthatyoucannotsee——fearthatdriestheinsideofthemouthandhalfofthethroat——fearthatmakesyousweatonthepalmsofthehands，andgulpinordertokeeptheuvulaatwork？ThisisafineFear——agreatcowardice，andmustbefelttobeappreciated。Theveryimprobabilityofbilliardsinadak-bungalowprovedtherealityofthething。Noman——drunkorsober——couldimagineagameatbilliards，orinventthespittingcrackofa“screw-cannon。“

Aseverecourseofdak-bungalowshasthisdisadvantage——itbreedsinfinitecredulity。Ifamansaidtoaconfirmeddak-bungalow-