Great Ghost Stories
The House And The Brain
LORD EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON
A friend of mine, who is a man of letters and a philosopher, said to me
one day, as if between jest and earnest: "Fancy! since we last met, I
have discovered a haunted house in the midst of Lond...
The Roll-call Of The Reef
A. T. QUILLER-COUCH
"Yes, sir," said my host, the quarryman, reaching down the relics from
their hook in the wall over the chimneypiece; "they've hung there all my
time, and most of my father's. The women won't touch 'em...
The Open Door
MRS. MARGARET OLIPHANT
I took the house of Brentwood on my return from India in 18--, for the
temporary accommodation of my family, until I could find a permanent
home for them. It had many advantages which made it pecul...
The Deserted House
ERNEST THEODOR AMADEUS HOFFMANN
You know already that I spent the greater part of last summer in X----,
began Theodore. The many old friends and acquaintances I found there,
the free, jovial life, the manifold artistic a...
The Mysterious Sketch
Opposite the chapel of Saint Sebalt in Nuremberg, at the corner of
Trabaus Street, there stands a little tavern, tall and narrow, with a
toothed gable and dusty windows, whose roof is surmounted by...
In the year that followed the death of Manus MacCodrum, James Achanna
saw nothing of his brother Gloom. He might have thought himself alone in
the world, of all his people, but for a letter that came to him...
The Four-fifteen Express
AMELIA B. EDWARDS
The events which I am about to relate took place between nine and ten
years ago. Sebastopol had fallen in the early spring, the peace of Paris
had been concluded since March, our commercial relations wi...
H. B. MARRYATT
My father was not born, or originally a resident, in the Hartz
Mountains; he was the serf of an Hungarian nobleman, of great
possessions, in Transylvania; but, although a serf, he was not by any
means a p...
The Withered Arm
A Lorn Milkmaid
It was an eighty-cow dairy, and the troop of milkers, regular and
supernumerary, were all at work; for, though the time of year was as yet
but early April, the feed lay entirely in water-m...
Brother, you ask me if I have ever loved. Yes. My story is a strange and
terrible one; and though I am sixty-six years of age, I scarcely dare
even now to disturb the ashes of that memory.
From my ea...
The Stalls Of Barchester Cathedral
MONTAGUE RHODES JAMES
This matter began, as far as I am concerned, with the reading of a
notice in the obituary section of the Gentleman's Magazine for an
early year in the nineteenth century:
"On February 26th, ...
What Was It?
It is, I confess, with considerable diffidence that I approach the
strange narrative which I am about to relate. The events which I purpose
detailing are of so extraordinary a character that I am quite...