“I have. Though I would hardly call them solid
evidence. Of course I am aware that the world at large has
never been shown what one would call proof of an
apparition. Many claim to believe, while most accept the
afterlife as an untouchable realm, if they believe in it at all.
I do not believe—I know.”
He said no more, so I asked, “How many spirits
haunt Kettering Hall?”
He mused. “That I cannot say. My grandfather
insisted that his father walked the lower gallery, and my
mother spoke of gossamer figures monthly. My great uncle
Fitzhugh complained of incessant bell tolling on stormy
nights. Others have mentioned source-less bells and
chimes, as well. As a youth I saw and heard nothing.
Things change in the course of a man’s life, though.
Terrible things happen, and sometimes one never
recovers.”
Lord Kettering crushed out a half-smoked cigar as
Jeffries entered.
The butler whispered to his master, “You look
very tired, sir.”
It was true. Kettering’s hair seemed to shimmer
with more silver highlights than earlier, and the lines of his
mouth and eyes had deepened. The chandelier light might
have been playing tricks, but the lord of the manor
nodded. “We shall talk more tomorrow. Jeffries, please
show our guest back to his room and see if he needs
anything.”
22