Chapter III.

The next morning, when the Otis family met at breakfast, they discussed the ghost at some length. The United States Minister was naturally a little annoyed to find that his present had not been accepted. "I have no wish," he said, "to do the ghost any personal injury, and I must say that, considering the length of time he has been in the house, I don't think it is at all polite to throw pillows at him,"—a very just remark, at which, I am sorry to say, the twins burst into shouts of laughter. "Upon the other hand," he continued, "if he really declines to use the Rising Sun Lubricator, we shall have to take his chains from him. It would be quite impossible to sleep, with such a noise going on outside the bedrooms."

For the rest of the week, however, they were undisturbed, the only thing that excited any attention being the continual renewal of the blood-stain on the library floor. This certainly was very strange, as the door was always locked at night by Mr. Otis, and the windows kept closely barred. The chameleon-like colour, also, of the stain excited a good deal of comment. Some mornings it was a dull (almost Indian) red, then it would be vermilion, then a rich purple, and once when they came down for family prayers, according to the simple rites of the Free American Reformed Episcopalian Church, they found it a bright emerald-green. These kaleidoscopic changes naturally amused the party very much, and bets on the subject were freely made every evening. The only person who did not enter into the joke was little Virginia, who, for some unexplained reason, was always a good deal distressed at the sight of the blood-stain, and very nearly cried the morning it was emerald-green.

The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday night. Shortly after they had gone to bed they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful crash in the hall. Rushing down-stairs, they found that a large suit of old armour had become detached from its stand, and had fallen on the stone floor, while seated in a high-backed chair was the Canterville ghost, rubbing his knees with an expression of acute agony on his face. The twins, having brought their pea-shooters with them, at once discharged two pellets on him, with that accuracy of aim which can only be attained by long and careful practice on a writing-master, while the United States Minister covered him with his revolver, and called upon him, in accordance with Californian etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost started up with a wild shriek of rage, and swept through them like a mist, extinguishing Washington Otis's candle as he passed, and so leaving them all in total darkness. On reaching the top of the staircase he recovered himself, and determined to give his celebrated peal of demoniac laughter. This he had on more than one occasion found extremely useful. It was said to have turned Lord Raker's wig grey in a single night, and had certainly made three of Lady Canterville's French governesses give warning before their month was up. He accordingly laughed his most horrible laugh, till the old vaulted roof rang and rang again, but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a door opened, and Mrs. Otis came out in a light blue dressing-gown. "I am afraid you are far from well," she said, "and have brought you a bottle of Doctor Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you will find it a most excellent remedy." The ghost glared at her in fury, and began at once to make preparations for turning himself into a large black dog, an accomplishment for which he was justly renowned, and to which the family doctor always attributed the permanent idiocy of Lord Canterville's uncle, the Hon. Thomas Horton. The sound of approaching footsteps, however, made him hesitate in his fell purpose, so he contented himself with becoming faintly phosphorescent, and vanished with a deep churchyard groan, just as the twins had come up to him.

On reaching his room he entirely broke down, and became a prey to the most violent agitation. The vulgarity of the twins, and the gross materialism of Mrs. Otis, were naturally extremely annoying, but what really distressed him most was that he had been unable to wear the suit of mail. He had hoped that even modern Americans would be thrilled by the sight of a Spectre in armour, if for no more sensible reason, at least out of respect for their natural poet Longfellow, over whose graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a weary hour when the Cantervilles were up in town. Besides it was his own suit. He had worn it with great success at the Kenilworth tournament, and had been highly complimented on it by no less a person than the Virgin Queen herself. Yet when he had put it on, he had been completely overpowered by the weight of the huge breastplate and steel casque, and had fallen heavily on the stone pavement, barking both his knees severely, and bruising the knuckles of his right hand.

For some days after this he was extremely ill, and hardly stirred out of his room at all, except to keep the blood-stain in proper repair. However, by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and resolved to make a third attempt to frighten the United States Minister and his family. He selected Friday, August 17th, for his appearance, and spent most of that day in looking over his wardrobe, ultimately deciding in favour of a large slouched hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet frilled at the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger. Towards evening a violent storm of rain came on, and the wind was so high that all the windows and doors in the old house shook and rattled. In fact, it was just such weather as he loved. His plan of action was this. He was to make his way quietly to Washington Otis's room, gibber at him from the foot of the bed, and stab himself three times in the throat to the sound of low music. He bore Washington a special grudge, being quite aware that it was he who was in the habit of removing the famous Canterville blood-stain by means of Pinkerton's Paragon Detergent. Having reduced the reckless and foolhardy youth to a condition of abject terror, he was then to proceed to the room occupied by the United States Minister and his wife, and there to place a clammy hand on Mrs. Otis's forehead, while he hissed into her trembling husband's ear the awful secrets of the charnel-house. With regard to little Virginia, he had not quite made up his mind. She had never insulted him in any way, and was pretty and gentle. A few hollow groans from the wardrobe, he thought, would be more than sufficient, or, if that failed to wake her, he might grabble at the counterpane with palsy-twitching fingers. As for the twins, he was quite determined to teach them a lesson. The first thing to be done was, of course, to sit upon their chests, so as to produce the stifling sensation of nightmare. Then, as their beds were quite close to each other, to stand between them in the form of a green, icy-cold corpse, till they became paralyzed with fear, and finally, to throw off the winding-sheet, and crawl round the room, with white, bleached bones and one rolling eyeball, in the character of "Dumb Daniel, or the Suicide's Skeleton," a rôle in which he had on more than one occasion produced a great effect, and which he considered quite equal to his famous part of "Martin the Maniac, or the Masked Mystery."

At half-past ten he heard the family going to bed. For some time he was disturbed by wild shrieks of laughter from the twins, who, with the light-hearted gaiety of schoolboys, were evidently amusing themselves before they retired to rest, but at a quarter-past eleven all was still, and, as midnight sounded, he sallied forth. The owl beat against the window-panes, the raven croaked from the old yew-tree, and the wind wandered moaning round the house like a lost soul; but the Otis family slept unconscious of their doom, and high above the rain and storm he could hear the steady snoring of the Minister for the United States. He stepped stealthily out of the wainscoting, with an evil smile on his cruel, wrinkled mouth, and the moon hid her face in a cloud as he stole past the great oriel window, where his own arms and those of his murdered wife were blazoned in azure and gold. On and on he glided, like an evil shadow, the very darkness seeming to loathe him as he passed. Once he thought he heard something call, and stopped; but it was only the baying of a dog from the Red Farm, and he went on, muttering strange sixteenth-century curses, and ever and anon brandishing the rusty dagger in the midnight air. Finally he reached the corner of the passage that led to luckless Washington's room. For a moment he paused there, the wind blowing his long grey locks about his head, and twisting into grotesque and fantastic folds the nameless horror of the dead man's shroud. Then the clock struck the quarter, and he felt the time was come. He chuckled to himself, and turned the corner; but no sooner had he done so than, with a piteous wail of terror, he fell back, and hid his blanched face in his long, bony hands. Right in front of him was standing a horrible spectre, motionless as a carven image, and monstrous as a madman's dream! Its head was bald and burnished; its face round, and fat, and white; and hideous laughter seemed to have writhed its features into an eternal grin. From the eyes streamed rays of scarlet light, the mouth was a wide well of fire, and a hideous garment, like to his own, swathed with its silent snows the Titan form. On its breast was a placard with strange writing in antique characters, some scroll of shame it seemed, some record of wild sins, some awful calendar of crime, and, with its right hand, it bore aloft a falchion of gleaming steel.

Never having seen a ghost before, he naturally was terribly frightened, and, after a second hasty glance at the awful phantom, he fled back to his room, tripping up in his long winding-sheet as he sped down the corridor, and finally dropping the rusty dagger into the Minister's jack-boots, where it was found in the morning by the butler. Once in the privacy of his own apartment, he flung himself down on a small pallet-bed, and hid his face under the clothes. After a time, however, the brave old Canterville spirit asserted itself, and he determined to go and speak to the other ghost as soon as it was daylight. Accordingly, just as the dawn was touching the hills with silver, he returned towards the spot where he had first laid eyes on the grisly phantom, feeling that, after all, two ghosts were better than one, and that, by the aid of his new friend, he might safely grapple with the twins. On reaching the spot, however, a terrible sight met his gaze. Something had evidently happened to the spectre, for the light had entirely faded from its hollow eyes, the gleaming falchion had fallen from its hand, and it was leaning up against the wall in a strained and uncomfortable attitude. He rushed forward and seized it in his arms, when, to his horror, the head slipped off and rolled on the floor, the body assumed a recumbent posture, and he found himself clasping a white dimity bed-curtain, with a sweeping-brush, a kitchen cleaver, and a hollow turnip lying at his feet! Unable to understand this curious transformation, he clutched the placard with feverish haste, and there, in the grey morning light, he read these fearful words:

YE OTIS GHOSTE

Ye Onlie True and Originale Spook,
Beware of Ye Imitationes.
All others are counterfeit.

The whole thing flashed across him. He had been tricked, foiled, and out-witted! The old Canterville look came into his eyes; he ground his toothless gums together; and, raising his withered hands high above his head, swore according to the picturesque phraseology of the antique school, that, when Chanticleer had sounded twice his merry horn, deeds of blood would be wrought, and murder walk abroad with silent feet.

Hardly had he finished this awful oath when, from the red-tiled roof of a distant homestead, a cock crew. He laughed a long, low, bitter laugh, and waited. Hour after hour he waited, but the cock, for some strange reason, did not crow again. Finally, at half-past seven, the arrival of the housemaids made him give up his fearful vigil, and he stalked back to his room, thinking of his vain oath and baffled purpose. There he consulted several books of ancient chivalry, of which he was exceedingly fond, and found that, on every occasion on which this oath had been used, Chanticleer had always crowed a second time. "Perdition seize the naughty fowl," he muttered, "I have seen the day when, with my stout spear, I would have run him through the gorge, and made him crow for me an 'twere in death!" He then retired to a comfortable lead coffin, and stayed there till evening.

Footnotes

  1. The "Virgin Queen" is Queen Elizabeth I who ruled England from 1558 to her death in 1603. Elizabeth remained unmarried throughout her reign in order to maintain control over England. She is one of the most famous monarchs in English history.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  2. You Only True and Original Spook, Beware of Your Imitations (those who imitate you). All others (other ghosts) are counterfeit (fake.)

    — Zachary, Owl Eyes Staff
  3. Since Canterville Chase now belongs to the Otis family, the twins have changed Sir Simon's name from the Canterville ghost to the Otis ghost, expressing ownership over him and diminishing his influence by stealing his very name.

    — Zachary, Owl Eyes Staff
  4. Considering how the twins have thus far antagonized the ghost, Sir Simon should consider this laughter as more serious than the "hearted gaiety of schoolboys" and be concerned that they are possibly planning something for him.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  5. Similar to the "Dumb Daniel, or the Suicide's Skeleton" annotation, this is line once again exemplifies Wilde's humorous irony because it demonstrates the contrast between how readers and Sir Simon view his behavior as a ghost. Sir Simon considers himself very legitimate, but readers see that he is simply performing clichéd roles.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  6. This is another example of Wilde bringing in a more serious tone as Sir Simon strives to terrify the Otises. This simile paints an image of how dark and haunting Sir Simon looks as he moves closer to his victims.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  7. Wilde provides a little more seriousness and legitimacy to Sir Simon's ghostly actions in this passage by writing in some wonderful imagery to add to the tension of the scene. This is an example of personification, and it paints a vivid image for the readers of how even the moon is going to hide from the ghost's terrifying actions.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  8. The commas after "Dumb Danial" surrounding "or the Suicide's Skeleton" create a grammatical construct known as an appositive, which means the information between the commas defines the preceding information, but it is often considered unnecessary because readers are familiar with the full meaning of the first information. This makes this apposition particularly ironic because it appears to signify something like “as you all know.” However, it is unlikely that many readers know Dumb Daniel is the suicide skeleton.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  9. Similar to the "of course" explanation above, this phrase suggests that the ghost has no other options besides looking like a corpse because of the role its playing. Wilde appears to be using all the possible clichés of traditional ghost stories for Sir Simon's plans, and the inclusion of all these clichés satirizes the tradition.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  10. The phrase "of course" gives the impression that the narrator is sharing important, confidential information with the readers and confirming the ghost's actions as logical and appropriate. However, since the phrase is set between two commas, readers should note that this indicates Wilde's intention to signify the opposite meaning: the ghost's actions should be seen as absurd and playing into the classic tropes of ghost stories.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  11. While the term "charnel house" refers to the vaults or buildings where human remains are stored, the term can also mean any place filled with death and destruction. Sir Simon likely plans to reveal the secrets of the dead or the life beyond death to Mr. Otis in an attempt to terrify him.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  12. The American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882) wrote lyrical poems that largely adhered to poetic conventions such as standard forms, regular meter, and rhymed stanzas. He was the most popular American poet of his day and enjoyed success overseas. The ghost is likely referring to Longfellow's "The Skeleton in Armor" poem in this passage.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  13. Mrs. Otis's offer of medicine for the ghost's laugh further emphasizes the lack of appreciation or recognition the family has for the ghost's aesthetics and the divide between their world views. In this instance, however, Mrs. Otis even fails to see the ghost as a dead thing, referring to him possibly having indigestion, a problem that only living being possess.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  14. "Indian red" refers to a pigment comprised of naturally occurring iron oxides (i.e., rust). The origin of the name for this color comes from the red soil found in India, and this term came into English usage in 1792.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  15. Located on the western coast of the United States, California acquired its statehood status in 1850. However, in the 19th century it still had a strong mental association with the lawless frontier period of the American Wild West. Mr. Otis's "Californian etiquette" is an excellent example of Wilde's use of irony because holding someone at gun point and demanding that they raise their hands above their heads are certainly not considered appropriate behavior.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  16. Since pea-shooters are simple, small, and concealable, Wilde is pointing out that they have a strong association with classroom pranks and tricks that students often played on their teachers. This strongly suggests that the twins are mischievous children who delight in poking fun at others. They take particular pleasure in trying to prank the ghost.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  17. Pea-shooters are like toy blowguns. They have a long, hollow tube and a mouthpiece so children and put a pea or a small pellet into the tube and project it out with their breath. The twins use their "weapons" immediately on the ghost while their father pulls out a revolver. The ghost is immediately surprised and enraged by this sudden violence.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  18. This is an allusion to the vain rooster Chanticleer in "The Nun's Priest's Tale," one of the stories found in Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales. In the mock epic, Chanticleer takes enormous pride in the sound of his crowing, which is probably why Wilde uses this character here; Sir Simon and Chanticleer both take enormous pride in their respective arts.

    — Susan Hurn
  19. A "falchion" is a particular kind of sword with a broad, slightly curved blade that has a single edge on the convex side.

    — Susan Hurn
  20. This is an allusion to the Titans in Greek mythology, immortal giants of incredible strength, and is used as an adjective to describe something as massive or imposing in size and appearance.

    — Susan Hurn
  21. The window has the coat of arms of Sir Simon and his wife painted on it. Old families in England and Europe often had symbols as unique heraldic designs to represent their families in public affairs.

    — Susan Hurn
  22. This is an allusion to Kenilworth Castle where Queen Elizabeth I was entertained with banquets and pageants were held in her honor. The castle rose to prominence in 1821 after Sir Walter Scott popularized the castle in his historical novel Kenilworth, turning the castle into an idealized and romantic location in the minds of Victorian England.

    — Susan Hurn
  23. The Virgin Queen is another name for Queen Elizabeth I of England, who ruled from 1558 to 1603. She was the last of the ruling Tudor family, and since she never married nor had children, she became known as the Virgin Queen.

    — Susan Hurn
  24. Like the change of colors when looking through the lens of a kaleidoscope, this adjective refers to something as being multicolored and having a complex pattern of colors.

    — Susan Hurn
  25. This word choice indicates that the blood stain is continually changing colors. Generally, "chameleon-like" can refers to any quick or frequent change, especially in appearance.

    — Susan Hurn