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THE JUDGE'S HOUSE by Bram Stoker

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Author Topic: THE JUDGE'S HOUSE by Bram Stoker  (Read 237 times)
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Roby
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« Reply #15 on: October 12, 2009, 12:58:23 am »

Instinctively he took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of logarithms,
and flung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat did not stir, so
again the poker performance of the previous night was repeated, and again
the rat, being closely pursued, fled up the rope of the alarm bell.
Strangely, too, the departure of this rat was instantly followed by the
renewal of the noise made by the general rat community. On this occasion, as
on the previous one, Malcolmson could not see at what part of the room the
rat disappeared, for the green shade of his lamp left the upper part of the
room in darkness and the fire had burned low.

On looking at his watch he found it was close on midnight, and, not sorry
for the divertissement, he made up his fire and made himself his nightly pot
of tea. He had got through a good spell of work, and thought himself
entitled to a cigarette, and so he sat on the great carved oak chair before
the fire and enjoyed it. Whilst smoking he began to think that he would like
to know where the rat disappeared to, for he had certain ideas for the
morrow not entirely disconnected with a rat-trap. Accordingly he lit another
lamp and placed it so that it would shine well into the right-hand corner of
the wall by the fireplace. Then he got all the books he had with him, and
placed them handy to throw at the vermin. Finally he lifted the rope of the
alarm bell and placed the end of it on the table, fixing the extreme end
under the lamp. As he handled it he could not help noticing how pliable it
was, especially for so strong a rope and one not in use. "You could hang a
man with it," he thought to himself. When his preparations were made he
looked around, and said complacently:
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Roby
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« Reply #16 on: October 12, 2009, 12:58:38 am »

"There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this time!"
He began his work again, and though, as before, somewhat disturbed at first
by the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in his proposition and problems.

Again he was called to his immediate surroundings suddenly. This time it
might not have been the sudden silence only which took his attention; there
was a slight movement of the rope, and the lamp moved. Without stirring, he
looked to see if his pile of books was within range, and then cast his eye
along the rope. As he looked he saw the great rat drop from the rope on the
oak arm-chair and sit there glaring at him. He raised a book in his right
hand, and taking careful aim, flung it at the rat. The latter, with a quick
movement, sprang aside and dodged the missile. Then he took another book,
and a third, and flung them one after the other at the rat, but each time
unsuccessfully. At last, as he stood with a book poised in his hand to
throw, the rat squeaked and seemed afraid. This made Malcolmson more than
ever eager to strike, and the book flew and struck the rat a resounding
blow. It gave a terrified squeak, and turning on his pursuer a look of
terrible malevolence, ran up the chair- back and made a great jump to the
rope of the alarm bell and ran up it like lightning. The lamp rocked under
the sudden strain, but it was a heavy one and did not topple over.
Malcolmson kept his eyes on the rat, and saw it by the light of the second
lamp leap to a moulding of the wainscot and disappear through a hole in one
of the great pictures which hung on the wall, obscured and invisible through
its coating of dirt and dust.
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« Reply #17 on: October 12, 2009, 12:58:52 am »

"I shall look up my friend's habitation in the morning," said the student,
as he went over to collect his books. "The third picture from the fireplace,
I shall not forget." He picked up the books one by one, commenting on them
as he lifted them. Conic Sections he does not mind, nor Cycloid
Oscillations, nor the Principia, nor Quaternions, nor Thermodynamics. Now
for a look at the book that fetched him!" Malcolmson took it up and looked
at it. As he did so he started, and a sudden pallor overspread his face. He
looked round uneasily and shivered slightly, as he murmured to himself:

"The Bible my mother gave me! What an odd coincidence." He sat down to work
again, and the rats in the wainscot renewed their gambols. They did not
disturb him, however; somehow their presence gave him a sense of
companionship. But he could not attend to his work, and after striving to
master the subject on which he was engaged gave it up in despair, and went
to bed as the first streak of dawn stole in through the eastern window.

He slept heavily but uneasily, and dreamed much, and when Mrs. Dempster woke
him late in the morning he seemed ill at ease, and for a few minutes did not
seem to realize exactly where he was. His first request rather surprised the
servant.
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« Reply #18 on: October 12, 2009, 12:59:04 am »

"Mrs. Dempster, when I am out to-day I wish you would get the steps and dust
or wash those pictures -- specially that one the third from the fireplace --
I want to see what they are."

Late in the afternoon Malcolmson worked at his books in the shaded walk, and
the cheerfulness of the previous day came back to him as the day wore on,
and he found that his reading was progressing well. He had worked out to a
satisfactory conclusion all the problems which had as yet baffled him, and
it was in a state of jubilation that he paid a visit to Mrs. Witham at "The
Good Traveller." He found a stranger in the cosy sitting-room with the
landlady, who was introduced to him as Dr. Thornhill. She was not quite at
ease, and this, combined with the doctor's plunging at once into a series of
questions, made Malcolmson come to the conclusion that his presence was not
an accident, so without preliminary he said:

"Dr. Thornhill, I shall with pleasure answer you any question you may choose
to ask me if you will answer me one question first."

The doctor seemed surprised, but he smiled and answered at once, "Done! What
is it?"
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« Reply #19 on: October 12, 2009, 12:59:23 am »

"Did Mrs. Witham ask you to come here and see me and advise me?"

Dr. Thornhill for a moment was taken aback, and Mrs. Witham got fiery red
and turned away, but the doctor was a frank and ready man, and he answered
at once and openly:

"She did, but she didn't intend you to know it. I suppose it was my clumsy
haste that made you suspect. She told me that she did not like the idea of
your being in that house all by yourself, and that she thought you took too
much strong tea. In fact, she wants me to advise you, if possible, to give
up the tea and the very late hours. I was a keen student in my time, so I
suppose I may take the liberty of a college man, and without offence, advise
you not quite as a stranger."
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« Reply #20 on: October 12, 2009, 12:59:40 am »

Malcolmson with a bright smile held out his hand. "Shake -- as they say in
America," he said. "I must thank you for your kindness, and Mrs. Witham too,
and your kindness deserves a return on my part. I promise to take no more
strong tea -- no tea at all till you let me -- and I shall go to bed
to-night at one o'clock at latest. Will that do?"

"Capital," said the doctor. "Now tell us all that you noticed in the old
house," and so Malcolmson then and there told in minute detail all that had
happened in the last two nights. He was interrupted every now and then by
some exclamation from Mrs. Witham, till finally when he told of the episode
of the Bible the landlady's pent-up emotions found vent in a shriek, and it
was not till a stiff glass of brandy and water had been administered that
she grew composed again. Dr. Thornhill listened with a face of growing
gravity, and when the narrative was complete and Mrs. Witham had been
restored he asked:

"The rat always went up the rope of the alarm bell?"

"Always."

"I suppose you know," said the Doctor after a pause, "what that rope is?"

"No?"
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« Reply #21 on: October 12, 2009, 12:59:57 am »

"It is," said the Doctor slowly, "the very rope which the hangman used for
all the victims of the Judge's judicial rancour!" Here he was interrupted by
another scream from Mrs. Witham, and steps had to be taken for her recovery.
Malcolmson having looked at his watch, and found that it was close to his
dinner-hour, had gone home before her complete recovery.

When Mrs. Witham was herself again she almost assailed the Doctor with angry
questions as to what he meant by putting such horrible ideas into the poor
young man's mind. "He has quite enough there already to upset him," she
added.

Dr. Thornhill replied:

"My dear madam, I had a distinct purpose in it! I wanted to draw his
attention to the bell-rope, and to fix it there. It may be that he is in a
highly over-wrought state, and has been studying too much, although I am
bound to say that he seems as sound and healthy a young man, mentally and
bodily, as ever I saw -- but then the rats -- and that suggestion of the
devil." The doctor shook his head and went on. "I would have offered to go
and stay the first night with him but that I felt sure it would have been a
cause of offence. He may get in the night some strange fright or
hallucination, and if he does I want him to pull that rope. All alone as he
is it will give us warning, and we may reach him in time to be of service. I
shall be sitting up pretty late to-night and shall keep my ears open. Do not
be alarmed if Benchurch gets a surprise before morning."
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« Reply #22 on: October 12, 2009, 01:00:12 am »

"Oh, Doctor, what do you mean? What do you mean?"

"I mean this, that possibly -- nay, more probably -- we shall hear the great
alarm-bell from the Judge's House to-night," and the Doctor made about an
effective an exit as could be thought of.

When Malcolmson arrived home he found that it was a little after his usual
time, and Mrs. Dempster had gone away -- the rules of Greenhow's Charity
were not to be neglected. He was glad to see that the place was bright and
tidy with a cheerful fire and a well-trimmed lamp. The evening was colder
than might have been expected in April, and a heavy wind was blowing with
such rapidly-increasing strength that there was every promise of a storm
during the night. For a few minutes after his entrance the noise of the rats
ceased, but so soon as they became accustomed to his presence they began
again. He was glad to hear them, for he felt once more the feeling of
companionship in their noise, and his mind ran back to the strange fact that
they only ceased to manifest themselves when the other -- the great rat with
the baleful eyes -- came upon the scene. The reading- lamp only was lit and
its green shade kept the ceiling and the upper part of the room in darkness
so that the cheerful light from the hearth spreading over the floor and
shining on the white cloth laid over the end of the table was warm and
cheery. Malcolmson sat down to his dinner with a good appetite and a buoyant
spirit. After his dinner and a cigarette he sat steadily down to work,
determined not to let anything disturb him, for he remembered his promise to
the doctor, and made up his mind to make the best of the time at his
disposal.
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« Reply #23 on: October 12, 2009, 01:00:26 am »

For an hour or so he worked all right, and then his thoughts began to wander
from his books. The actual circumstances around him, and the calls on his
physical attention, and his nervous susceptibility were not to be denied. By
this time the wind had become a gale, and the gale a storm. The old house,
solid though it was, seemed to shake to its foundation, and the storm roared
and raged through its many chimneys and its queer old gables, producing
strange, unearthly sounds in the empty rooms and corridors. Even the great
alarm-bell on the roof must have felt the force of the wind, for the rope
rose and fell slightly, as though the bell were moved a little from time to
time, and the limber rope fell on the oak floor with a hard and hollow
sound.

As Malcolmson listened to it he bethought himself of the doctor's words, "It
is the rope which the hangman used for the victims of the Judge's judicial
rancour," and he went over to the corner of the fireplace and took it in his
hand to look at it. There seemed a sort of deadly interest in it, and as he
stood there he lost himself for a moment in speculation as to who these
victims were, and the grim wish of the Judge to have such a ghastly relic
ever under his eyes. As he stood there the swaying of the bell on the roof
still lifted the rope now and again, but presently there came a new
sensation -- a sort of tremor in the rope, as though something was moving
along it.
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« Reply #24 on: October 12, 2009, 01:00:41 am »

Looking up instinctively Malcolmson saw the great rat coming slowly down
towards him, glaring at him steadily. He dropped the rope and started back
with a muttered curse, and the rat turning ran up the slope again and
disappeared, and at the same instant Malcolmson became conscious that the
noise of the other rats, which had ceased for a while, began again.

All this set him thinking, and it occurred to him that he had not
investigated the lair of the rat or looked at the pictures, as he had
intended. He lit the other lamp without the shade, and, holding it up went
and stood opposite the third picture from the fireplace on the right-hand
side where he had seen the rat disappear on the previous night.

At the first glance he started back so suddenly that he almost dropped the
lamp, and a deadly pallor overspread his face.

His knees shook, and heavy drops of sweat came on his forehead, and he
trembled like an aspen. But he was young and plucky, and pulled himself
together, and after the pause of a few seconds stepped forward again, raised
the lamp, and examined the picture which had been dusted and washed, and now
stood out clearly.
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« Reply #25 on: October 12, 2009, 01:01:11 am »

It was of a judge dressed in his robes of scarlet and ermine. His face was
strong and merciless, evil, crafty and vindictive, with a sensual mouth,
hooked nose of ruddy colour, and shaped like the beak of a bird of prey. The
rest of the face was of a cadaverous colour. The eyes were of peculiar
brilliance and with a terribly malignant expression. As he looked at them,
Malcolmson grew cold, for he saw there the very counterpart of the eyes of
the great rat. The lamp almost fell from his hand, he saw the rat with its
baleful eyes peering out through the hole in the corner of the picture, and
noted the sudden cessation of the noise of the other rats. However, he
pulled himself together, and went on with his examination of the picture.

The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carved oak chair, on the
right-hand side of a great stone fireplace where, in the corner, a rope hung
down from the ceiling, its end lying coiled on the floor. With a feeling of
something like horror, Malcolmson recognized the scene of the room as it
stood, and gazed around him in an awestruck manner as though he expected to
find some strange presence behind him. Then he looked over to the corner of
the fireplace -- and with a loud cry he let the lamp fall from his hand.
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« Reply #26 on: October 12, 2009, 01:01:22 am »

There, in the judge's arm-chair, with the rope hanging behind, sat the rat
with the Judge's baleful eyes, now intensified as with a fiendish leer. Save
for the howling of the storm without there was silence.

The fallen lamp recalled Malcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was of metal,
and so the oil was not spilt. However, the practical need of attending to it
settled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he had turned it out, he
wiped his brow and thought for a moment.

"This will not do," he said to himself. "If I go on like this I shall become
a crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor I would not take tea.
Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have been getting into a queer
state. Funny I did not notice it. I never felt better in my life. However,
it is all right now, and I shall not be such a fool again."
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« Reply #27 on: October 12, 2009, 01:01:37 am »

Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and resolutely
sat down to his work.

It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book, disturbed by the
sudden stillness. Without, the wind howled and roared louder then ever, and
the rain drove in sheets against the windows, beating like hail on the
glass, but within there was no sound whatever save the echo of the wind as
it roared in the great chimney, and now and then a hiss as a few raindrops
found their way down the chimney in a lull of the storm. The fire had fallen
low and had ceased to flame, though it threw out a red glow. Malcolmson
listened attentively, and presently heard a thin, squeaking noise, very
faint. It came from the corner of the room where the rope hung down, and he
thought it was the creaking of the rope on the floor as the swaying of the
bell raised and lowered it. Looking up, however, he saw in the dim light the
great rat clinging to the rope and gnawing it. The rope was already nearly
gnawed through -- he could see the lighter colour where the strands were
laid bare. As he looked the job was completed, and the severed end of the
rope fell clattering on the oaken floor, whilst for an instant the great rat
remained like a knob or tassel at the end of the rope, which now began to
sway to and fro. Malcolmson felt for a moment another pang of terror as he
thought that now the possibility of calling the outer world to his
assistance was cut off, but an intense anger took its place, and seizing the
book he was reading he hurled it at the rat. The blow was well-aimed, but
before the missile could reach him the rat dropped off and struck the floor
with a soft thud. Malcolmson instantly rushed over towards him, but it
darted away and disappeared in the darkness of the shadows of the room.
Malcolmson felt that his work was over for the night, and determined then
and there to vary the monotony of the proceedings by a hunt for the rat, and
took off the green shade of the lamp so as to insure a wider spreading
light. As he did so the gloom of the upper part of the room was relieved,
and in the new flood of light, great by comparison with the previous
darkness, the pictures on the wall stood out boldly.
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« Reply #28 on: October 12, 2009, 01:01:50 am »

From where he stood, Malcolmson saw right opposite to him the third picture
on the wall from the right of the fireplace. He rubbed his eyes in surprise,
and then a great fear began to come upon him.

In the centre of the picture was a great irregular patch of brown canvas, as
fresh as when it was stretched on the frame. The background was as before,
with chair and chimney-corner and rope, but the figure of the Judge had
disappeared.

Malcolmson, almost in a chill of horror, turned slowly round, and then he
began to shake and tremble like a man in a palsy. His strength seemed to
have left him, and he was incapable of action or movement, hardly even of
thought. He could only see and hear.
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« Reply #29 on: October 12, 2009, 01:02:03 am »

There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair sat the judge in his robes
of scarlet and ermine, with his baleful eyes glaring vindictively, and a
smile of triumph on the resolute cruel mouth, as he lifted with his hands a
black cap. Malcolmson felt as if the blood was running from his heart, as
one does in moments of prolonged suspense. There was a singing in his ears.
Without, he could hear the roar and howl of the tempest, and through it,
swept on the storm, came the striking of midnight by the great chimes in the
market-place. He stood for a space of time that seemed to him endless still
as a statue, and with wide-open, horror-struck eyes, breathless. As the
clock struck, so the smile of triumph on the Judge's face intensified, and
at the last stroke of midnight he placed the black cap on his head.
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