The Top 10 Scary Stories of All Time: Number 7

A
pure and simple ghost story. . . or is it?







The Apparition




by Guy de Maupassant














The subject of sequestration of the
person came up in speaking of a recent lawsuit, and each of us had a story to
tell--a true story, he said. We had been spending the evening together at an
old family mansion in the Rue de Grenelle, just a party of intimate friends.
The old Marquis de la Tour-Samuel, who was eighty-two, rose, and, leaning his
elbow on the mantelpiece, said in his somewhat shaky voice:




"I also know of something
strange, so strange that it has haunted me all my life. It is now fifty-six
years since the incident occurred, and yet not a month passes that I do not see
it again in a dream, so great is the impression of fear it has left on my mind.
For ten minutes I experienced such horrible fright that ever since then a sort
of constant terror has remained with me. Sudden noises startle me violently,
and objects imperfectly distinguished at night inspire me with a mad desire to
flee from them. In short, I am afraid of the dark!




"But I would not have
acknowledged that before I reached my present age. Now I can say anything. I
have never receded before real danger, ladies. It is, therefore, permissible,
at eighty-two years of age, not to be brave in presence of imaginary danger.




"That affair so completely
upset me, caused me such deep and mysterious and terrible distress, that I
never spoke of it to any one. I will now tell it to you exactly as it happened,
without any attempt at explanation.




"In July, 1827, I was
stationed at Rouen. One day as I was walking along the quay I met a man whom I
thought I recognized without being able to recall exactly who he was.
Instinctively I made a movement to stop. The stranger perceived it and at once
extended his hand.




"He was a friend to whom I had
been deeply attached as a youth. For five years I had not seen him; he seemed
to have aged half a century. His hair was quite white and he walked bent over
as though completely exhausted. He apparently understood my surprise, and he
told me of the misfortune which had shattered his life.




"Having fallen madly in love
with a young girl, he had married her, but after a year of more than earthly
happiness she died suddenly of an affection of the heart. He left his country
home on the very day of her burial and came to his town house in Rouen, where
he lived, alone and unhappy, so sad and wretched that he thought constantly of
suicide.




"'Since I have found you again
in this manner,' he said, 'I will ask you to render me an important service. It
is to go and get me out of the desk in my bedroom--our bedroom--some papers of
which I have urgent need. I cannot send a servant or a business clerk, as
discretion and absolute silence are necessary. As for myself, nothing on earth
would induce me to reenter that house. I will give you the key of the room,
which I myself locked on leaving, and the key of my desk, also a few words for
my gardener, telling him to open the chateau for you. But come and breakfast
with me tomorrow and we will arrange all that.'




"I promised to do him the
slight favor he asked. It was, for that matter, only a ride which I could make
in an hour on horseback, his property being but a few miles distant from Rouen.




"At ten o'clock the following
day I breakfasted, tete-a-tete, with my friend, but he scarcely spoke.




"He begged me to pardon him;
the thought of the visit I was about to make to that room, the scene of his
dead happiness, overcame him, he said. He, indeed, seemed singularly agitated
and preoccupied, as though undergoing some mysterious mental struggle.




"At length he explained to me
exactly what I had to do. It was very simple. I must take two packages of
letters and a roll of papers from the first right-hand drawer of the desk, of
which I had the key. He added:




"'I need not beg you to
refrain from glancing at them.'




"I was wounded at that remark
and told him so somewhat sharply. He stammered:




"'Forgive me, I suffer so,'
and tears came to his eyes.




"At about one o'clock I took
leave of him to accomplish my mission.




"'The weather was glorious,
and I trotted across the fields, listening to the song of the larks and the
rhythmical clang of my sword against my boot. Then I entered the forest and
walked my horse. Branches of trees caressed my face as I passed, and now and
then I caught a leaf with my teeth and chewed it, from sheer gladness of heart
at being alive and vigorous on such a radiant day.




"As I approached the chateau I
took from my pocket the letter I had for the gardener, and was astonished at
finding it sealed. I was so irritated that I was about to turn back without
having fulfilled my promise, but reflected that I should thereby display undue
susceptibility. My friend in his troubled condition might easily have fastened
the envelope without noticing that he did so.




"The manor looked as if it had
been abandoned for twenty years. The open gate was falling from its hinges, the
walks were overgrown with grass and the flower beds were no longer
distinguishable.




"The noise I made by kicking
at a shutter brought out an old man from a side door. He seemed stunned with
astonishment at seeing me. On receiving my letter, he read it, reread it,
turned it over and over, looked me up and down, put the paper in his pocket and
finally said:




"'Well, what is it you wish?'




"I replied shortly:




"'You ought to know, since you
have just read your master's orders. I wish to enter the chateau.'




"He seemed overcome.




"'Then you are going in--into
her room?'




"I began to lose patience.




"'Damn it! Are you presuming
to question me?'




"He stammered in confusion:




"'No--sir--but--but it has not
been opened since--since the-death. If you will be kind enough to wait five
minutes I will go and--and see if--'




"I interrupted him angrily:




"'See here, what do you mean
by your tricks?




"'You know very well you
cannot enter the room, since here is the key!'




"He no longer objected.




"'Then, sir, I will show you
the way.'




"'Show me the staircase and
leave me. I'll find my way without you.'




"'But--sir--indeed--'




"This time I lost patience,
and pushing him aside, went into the house.




"I first went through the
kitchen, then two rooms occupied by this man and his wife. I then crossed a
large hall, mounted a staircase and recognized the door described by my friend.




"I easily opened it, and
entered the apartment. It was so dark that at first I could distinguish
nothing. I stopped short, disagreeably affected by that disagreeable, musty
odor of closed, unoccupied rooms. As my eyes slowly became accustomed to the
darkness I saw plainly enough a large and disordered bedroom, the bed without
sheets but still retaining its mattresses and pillows, on one of which was a
deep impression, as though an elbow or a head had recently rested there.




"The chairs all seemed out of
place. I noticed that a door, doubtless that of a closet, had remained half
open.




"I first went to the window,
which I opened to let in the light, but the fastenings of the shutters had
grown so rusty that I could not move them. I even tried to break them with my
sword, but without success. As I was growing irritated over my useless efforts
and could now see fairly well in the semi-darkness, I gave up the hope of
getting more light, and went over to the writing desk.




"I seated myself in an
armchair and, letting down the lid of the desk, I opened the drawer designated.
It was full to the top. I needed but three packages, which I knew how to
recognize, and began searching for them.




"I was straining my eyes in
the effort to read the superscriptions when I seemed to hear, or, rather, feel,
something rustle back of me. I paid no attention, believing that a draught from
the window was moving some drapery. But in a minute or so another movement,
almost imperceptible, sent a strangely disagreeable little shiver over my skin.
It was so stupid to be affected, even slightly, that self-respect prevented my
turning around. I had just found the second package I needed and was about to
lay my hand on the third when a long and painful sigh, uttered just at my
shoulder, made me bound like a madman from my seat and land several feet off.
As I jumped I had turned round my hand on the hilt of my sword, and, truly, if
I had not felt it at my side I should have taken to my heels like a coward.




"A tall woman dressed in
white, stood gazing at me from the back of the chair where I had been sitting
an instant before.




"Such a shudder ran through
all my limbs that I nearly fell backward. No one who has not experienced it can
understand that frightful, unreasoning terror! The mind becomes vague, the
heart ceases to beat, the entire body grows as limp as a sponge.




"I do not believe in ghosts,
nevertheless I collapsed from a hideous dread of the dead, and I suffered, oh!
I suffered in a few moments more than in all the rest of my life from the
irresistible terror of the supernatural. If she had not spoken I should have
died perhaps. But she spoke, she spoke in a sweet, sad voice that set my nerves
vibrating. I dare not say that I became master of myself and recovered my
reason. No! I was terrified and scarcely knew what I was doing. But a certain
innate pride, a remnant of soldierly instinct, made me, almost in spite of
myself, maintain a bold front. She said:




"'Oh, sir, you can render me a
great service.'




"I wanted to reply, but it was
impossible for me to pronounce a word. Only a vague sound came from my throat.
She continued:




"'Will you? You can save me,
cure me. I suffer frightfully. I suffer, oh! how I suffer!' and she slowly
seated herself in my armchair, still looking at me.




"'Will you?' she said.




"I nodded in assent, my voice
still being paralyzed.




"Then she held out to me a
tortoise-shell comb and murmured:




"'Comb my hair, oh! comb my
hair; that will cure me; it must be combed. Look at my head--how I suffer; and
my hair pulls so!'




"Her hair, unbound, very long
and very black, it seemed to me, hung over the back of the armchair and touched
the floor.




"Why did I promise? Why did I
take that comb with a shudder, and why did I hold in my hands her long black
hair that gave my skin a frightful cold sensation, as though I were handling
snakes? I cannot tell.




"That sensation has remained
in my fingers, and I still tremble in recalling it.




"I combed her hair. I handled,
I know not how, those icy locks. I twisted, knotted, and unknotted, and braided
them. She sighed, bowed her head, seemed happy. Suddenly she said, 'Thank you!'
snatched the comb from my hands and fled by the door that I had noticed ajar.




"Left alone, I experienced for
several seconds the horrible agitation of one who awakens from a nightmare. At
length I regained my senses. I ran to the window and with a mighty effort burst
open the shutters, letting a flood of light into the room. Immediately I sprang
to the door by which that being had departed. I found it closed and immovable!




"Then the mad desire to flee
overcame me like a panic the panic which soldiers know in battle. I seized the
three packets of letters on the open desk, ran from the room, dashed down the
stairs four steps at a time, found myself outside, I know not how, and,
perceiving my horse a few steps off, leaped into the saddle and galloped away.




"I stopped only when I reached
Rouen and alighted at my lodgings. Throwing the reins to my orderly, I fled to
my room and shut myself in to reflect. For an hour I anxiously asked myself if
I were not the victim of a hallucination. Undoubtedly I had had one of those
incomprehensible nervous attacks those exaltations of mind that give rise to
visions and are the stronghold of the supernatural. And I was about to believe
I had seen a vision, had a hallucination, when, as I approached the window, my
eyes fell, by chance, upon my breast. My military cape was covered with long
black hairs! One by one, with trembling fingers, I plucked them off and threw
them away.




"I then called my orderly. I
was too disturbed, too upset to go and see my friend that day, and I also
wished to reflect more fully upon what I ought to tell him. I sent him his
letters, for which he gave the soldier a receipt. He asked after me most
particularly, and, on being told I was ill--had had a sunstroke--appeared
exceedingly anxious. Next morning I went to him, determined to tell him the
truth. He had gone out the evening before and had not yet returned. I called
again during the day; my friend was still absent. After waiting a week longer
without news of him, I notified the authorities and a judicial search was
instituted. Not the slightest trace of his whereabouts or manner of
disappearance was discovered.




"A minute inspection of the
abandoned chateau revealed nothing of a suspicious character. There was no
indication that a woman had been concealed there.




"After fruitless researches all
further efforts were abandoned, and for fifty-six years I have heard nothing; I
know no more than before."





The list so far:

8. MR James: Oh Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad

9. William Fryer Harvey: The Beast with Five Fingers

10. HG Wells: The Sea Raiders





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A ghost story by Gordon