Night Stalks The Mansion: A True Story Of One Family's Ghostly Adventure

Night Stalks The Mansion: A True Story Of One Family's Ghostly Adventure by Constance Westbie, Harold Cameron Page B

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Authors: Constance Westbie, Harold Cameron
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was still so annoyed at being 'took'
like a country hick that I couldn't get to sleep." She suddenly
slapped her hand down on the table. "This would never
have happened in New Mexico. People there don't steal
like that!"
    I grinned. "They wouldn't steal a purse, but I've known
cattle to vanish into thin air. But go onl"
    She took a deep breath. "I wanted a cigarette but I had
left them on the telephone table in the hall. I didn't want
to wake Larry or disturb the rest of you so I didn't turn on
the lights. I knew the layout of the house. I just went down
the stairs and straight down the hall to the table. I had the
feeling that the library door was open and you said you
always kept it closed, but I didn't think about it until later.
I was fumbling for the cigarettes and finally found them
and - well - I heard someone there in the hall. The footsteps came across to where I stood."
    "So?"
    "I knew it wasn't any of you or you would have answered
when I asked who it was. But somebody just walked over
to me and stood there in the dark. It was a woman, I'm
sure. She had slippers on her feet. Harold, she was so close
that I could hear her breathing!"
    I smiled a little. "No, you didn't, sis. You didn't hear this
one breathing. What did you do then?"
    "Do?" she echoed shrilly. "I ran -that's what I did. I ran
up those stairs in the dark, locked the bedroom door and
climbed into bed with Larryl I stayed there all night with
my face to the wall and head covered. That's what I didl I
thought morning would never comet"
    Dorothy absently guided the spoon to Michael's waiting
mouth as I was silent for a moment or two, wondering where to start. Elda Clare evidently misinterpreted my attitude for one of disbelief for she burst out indignantly, "Don't
you dare say it was just my imagination) It really happened
- and nothing like that ever happened to me before in my
whole life)"

    I sighed again. "I think it's time we had a little talk,"
I told her.
    "But do you believe me?" she demanded.
    "Yes, I believe you. Listen to me, nowt" So I talked and
she listened - incredulously at first and then with mounting
indignation.
    "Why didn't you warn me?" she demanded when I had
finished. "Why did you let me walk right into it?"
    I was a little uncomfortable. Come to think of it, that
was my usual state of mind when I was forced to explain
about our unseen residents.
    "Well, honey, if you hadn't come down in the night and
hadn't been so close to the library, you might never have
known anything about it," I told her. "Sometimes we hear
this woman-sometimes we don't. Besides, would you have
believed me before you experienced it for yourself?"
    She was honest. "I probably would have thought you had
rocks in your head," she finally admitted. Then her customary smile broke through. "Now that I know the truth,
I feel better. At least I'm not the only one with rocks!"
    "You have plenty of company," I assured her and there
was a relieved smile on Dorothy's face.
    "I think I'm hungry," Elda Clare announced. "You and
Dorothy act so matter of fact about this that it must be an
ordinary occurrence. How about telling me more while I
eat breakfast and before the girls come down?"
    So I told about the visitations in our bedrooms, the frightened servants, the footsteps on the gravel when Joe and
Carrol were camping out and the whimpering dogs. I
wouldn't have blamed her when I finished the recital if she had cut her visit short. However, the situation appealed to
her sense of adventure. She joined in our ritual of tapping
walls and checking doors and windows. She listened avidly
while we gathered around the kitchen table at night and
told of our other experiences.

    During one of these sessions Elda Clare happened to have
her eyes on the basement door and stopped suddenly in the
middle of a lively recital of an experience she had undergone with a half-broken pony. She stared incredulously and
then indicated what had

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