Great Ghost Stories
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Clarimonde
THEOPHILE GAUTIER 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 earliest childhood I had fe... Green Branches
FIONA MACLEOD 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 out of the west. True, ... 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 and intellectual interest... 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 with the Russian Empire we... 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 London." "Really haunted?-... The Mysterious Sketch
ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN I 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 a plaster Virgin. It wa... 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 peculiarly appropriate. It wa... 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; they're afraid of the ... 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, at his residence in the C... The Were-wolf
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 poor or illiterate man. In... The Withered Arm
THOMAS HARDY 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-meadows, and the cows wer... What Was It?
FITZ-JAMES O'BRIEN 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 prepared to meet with a...