Classic Ghost Stories by Wilkie Collins, M. R. James, Charles Dickens and Others

resources might have felt at a loss how to act for the best, in the emergency that now confronted him. While he was still as far as ever from arriving at a decision, some person knocked at the door.
    Had Mrs. Zant returned? He looked up as the door was opened, and saw to his astonishment—Mr. John Zant’s housekeeper.
    â€œDon’t let me alarm you, sir,” the woman said. “Mrs. Zant has been taken a little faint, at the door of our house. My master is attending to her.”
    â€œWhere is the child?” Mr. Rayburn asked.
    â€œI was bringing her back to you, sir, when we met a lady and her little girl at the door of the hotel. They were on their way to the beach—and Miss Lucy begged hard to be allowed to go with them. The lady said the two children were playfellows, and she was sure you would not object.”
    â€œThe lady is quite right. Mrs. Zant’s illness is not serious, I hope?”
    â€œI think not, sir. But I should like to say something in her interests. May I? Thank you.” She advanced a step nearer to him, and spoke her next words in a whisper. “Take Mrs. Zant away from this place, and lose no time in doing it.”
    Mr. Rayburn was on his guard. He merely asked:
    â€œWho?”
    The housekeeper answered in a curiously indirect manner—partly in jest, as it seemed, and partly in earnest.
    â€œWhen a man has lost his wife,” she said, “there’s some difference of opinion in Parliament, as I hear, whether he does right or wrong, if he marries his wife’s sister. Wait a bit! I’m coming to the point. My master is one who has a long head on his shoulders; he sees consequences which escape the notice of people like me. In his way of thinking, if one man may marry his wife’s sister, and no harm done, where’s the objection if another man pays a compliment to the family, and marries his brother’s widow? My master, if you please, is that other man. Take the widow away before she marries him.”
    This was beyond endurance.
    â€œYou insult Mrs. Zant,” Mr. Rayburn answered, “if you suppose that such a thing is possible!”
    â€œOh! I insult her, do I? Listen to me. One of three things will happen. She will be entrapped into consenting to it—or frightened into consenting to it—or drugged into consenting to it—”
    Mr. Rayburn was too indignant to let her go on.
    â€œYou are talking nonsense,” he said. “There can be no marriage; the law forbids it”
    â€œAre you one of the people who see no farther than their noses?” she asked insolently. “Won’t the law take his money? Is he obliged to mention that he is related to her by marriage, when he buys the licence?” She paused; her humour changed; she stamped furiously on the floor. The true motive that animated her showed itself in her next words, and warned Mr. Rayburn to grant a more favourable hearing than he had accorded to her yet. “If you won’t stop it,” she burst out, “I will! If he marries anybody, he is bound to marry ME. Will you take her away? I ask you, for the last time —will you take her away?”
    The tone in which she made that final appeal to him had its effect.
    â€œI will go back with you to John Zant’s house,” he said, “and judge for myself”
    She laid her hand on his arm:
    â€œI must go first—or you may not be let in. Follow me in five minutes; and don’t knock at the street door.”
    On the point of leaving him, she abruptly returned.
    â€œWe have forgotten something,” she said. “Suppose my master refuses to see you. His temper might get the better of him; he might make it so unpleasant for you that you would be obliged to go.”
    â€œMy temper might get the better of me ,” Mr. Rayburn replied; “and—if I thought it was in Mrs. Zant’s interests—I might refuse to leave the house unless she