And each night I would briefly feel the agony. My health
was ruined. There was to be no locating the witches who
had mouthed the curse in order to beg their forgiveness.
They have vanished forever.
“Then, one night, as an experiment that held little
hope, Jeffries retired to my bed. And the emanation
appeared to him instead. For some unfathomable reason, it
did not find me that night, but treated my faithful butler to
the brief but wretched torment. Alas, the feint does not
work twice in a row. By the second night, the scene locates
me even if I have placed a surrogate in my bed. Still, if I
have been in my room for a month or more at a stretch, I
can get Jeffries to substitute for me one night and I can
then experience true uninterrupted sleep while the spirits
are, shall we say, confused? His kindness is all that has kept
my sanity, and I have compensated him well.”
Lord Kettering ended his tale with a long draught
of brandy that Jeffries had placed before him. Then he
turned dark eyes upon me. “When I learned of your visit
several weeks ago, I stayed in my own room every night
until you arrived with the hope that the emanation would
take you for me. When I was not visited last night at 12:15,
I knew that you had been, and sent Jeffries at once to see to
you.
“So you can understand what I mean when I say
that it is I who is haunted, though you unknowingly
relieved my agony for one precious night. It was a cruel
thing to do, but now you understand. Do you suppose
your readers will?”
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