 The Murder Hole by Anonymous This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Stephen Anderson The Murder Hole About 300 years ago, on the estate of Lord Casalus between Arshur and Galloway, lay a great moor, unrelieved by any trees or vegetation. It was rumored that unwary travelers had been intercepted and murdered there, and that no investigation ever revealed what had happened to them. People living in a nearby hamlet believed that in the dead of night, they sometimes heard a sudden cry of anguish, and a shepherd who had lost his way once declared that he had seen three mysterious figures struggling together, until one of them, with a frightful scream, sank suddenly into the earth. So terrifying was this place that at last no one remained there, except one old woman and her two sons, who were too poor to flee as their neighbors had done. Travelers occasionally begged the knights lodging at their cottage, rather than continue their journey across the moor in the darkness, and even by day no one traveled that way except in companies of at least two or three people. One stormy November night, a peddler boy was overtaken by darkness on the moor. Terrified by the solitude, he repeated to himself the promises of Scripture and so struggled toward the old cottage, which he had visited the year before in a large company of travelers, and where he felt assured of a welcome. Its light guided him from afar, and he knocked at the door, but at first received no answer. He then peered through a window and saw that the occupants were all at their accustomed occupations. The old woman was scrubbing the floor and stirring it with sand. Her two sons seemed to be thrusting something large and heavy into a great chest, which they then hastily locked. There was an air of haste about all this, which puzzled the waiting boy outside. He tapped lightly on the window, and they all started up, with consternation on their faces, and one of the men suddenly darted out the door, seized the boy roughly by the shoulder, and dragged him inside. He said, trying to laugh, I am only the poor peddler who visited you the last year. Are you alone? cried the old woman in a harsh, deep voice. Alone here, and alone in the whole world, replied the boy sadly. Then you are welcome, said one of the men with a sneer. Their words filled the boy with alarm, and the confusion and desolation of the formerly neat and orderly cottage seemed to show signs of recent violence. The curtains had been torn down from the bed to which he was shown, and though he begged for a light to burn until he fell asleep, his terror kept him long awake. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a single cry of distress. He sat up and listened, but it was not repeated, and he would have lain down to sleep again, but suddenly his eye fell on a stream of blood, slowly trickling underneath the door of his room. In great terror he sprang to the door, and through a chink he saw that the victim outside was only a goat. But just then he overheard the voices of the two men, and their words transfixed him with horror. I wish all the throats we cut were as easy, said one. Did you ever hear such a noise as the old gentleman made last night? Ah, the murder holds the thing for me, said the other. One plunged and he's dead and buried in a moment. How do you mean to dispatch the lead in there? asked the old woman in a harsh whisper, and one of the men silently drew his bloody knife across his throat to answer. The terrified boy crept to his window and managed to let himself down without a sound. But as he stood wondering which way to turn, a dreadful cry rang out. The boy has escaped, let loose the blood hound. He ran for his life blindly, but all too soon he heard the dreadful bang of the hound and the voices of the men in pursuit. Suddenly he stumbled and fell on a heap of rough stones which cut him in every limb so that his blood poured over the stones. He staggered to his feet and ran on. The hound was so near that he could almost feel its breath on his back. But suddenly it smelled the blood on the stones and, thinking the chase at an end, it lay down and refused to go farther after the same scent. The boy fled on till morning, and when at last he reached a village, his pitiable state and his fearful story roused such wrath that three gibbets were at once set upon the moor, and before the night the three villains had been captured and had confessed their guilt. The bones of their victims were later discovered, and with great difficulty brought up from the dreadful hole with its narrow aperture into which they had been thrust. End of The Murder Hole by Anonymous Recording by Stephen Anderson, Jacksonville, Florida The Screaming Skull by If Marion Crawford. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Algy Pug. The Screaming Skull Part 1 I have often heard it scream. No, I am not nervous. I am not imaginative, and I never believed in ghosts unless that thing is one. Whatever it is, it hates me almost as much as it hated Luke Pratt, and it screams at me. If I were you, I would never tell ugly stories about ingenious ways of killing people, for you never can tell but that someone at the table may be tired of his or her nearest and dearest. I have always blamed myself for Mrs Pratt's death, and I suppose I was responsible for it in a way, though Heaven knows I never wished her anything but long life and happiness. If I had not told that story, she might be alive yet. That is why the thing screams at me, I fancy. She was a good little woman, with a sweet temper, all things considered, and a nice gentle voice. But I remember hearing her shriek once, when she thought her little boy was killed by a pistol that went off, though everyone was sure it was not loaded. It was the same scream, exactly the same, with a sort of rising quaver at the end. Do you know what I mean? Unmistakable. The truth is, I had not realised the doctor and his wife were not on good terms. They used to bicker a bit now and then when I was here, and I often noticed that little Mrs Pratt got very red and bit her lip hard to keep her temper, while Luke grew pale and said the most offensive things. He was that sort when he was in the nursery, I remember, and afterwards at school. He was my cousin, you know, that is how I came by this house. After he died, and his boy Charlie was killed in South Africa, there were no relations left. Yes, it's a pretty true property, just the sort of thing for an old sailor like me who is taken to gardening. One always remembers one's mistakes much more vividly than one's cleverest things, doesn't one. I've often noticed it. I was dining with the Prats one night, when I told them the story that afterwards made so much difference. It was a wet night in November, and the sea was moaning hush. If you don't speak, you will hear it now. Do you hear the tide? Gloomy sound, isn't it? Sometimes, about this time of year, hello, there it is. Don't be frightened, man. It won't eat you. It's only a noise after all. But I'm glad you've heard it, because there are always people who think it's the wind, or my imagination, or something. You won't hear it again tonight, I fancy, for it doesn't often come more than once. Yes, that's right. Put another stick on the fire, a little more stuff into that weak mixture you're so fond of. Do you remember old Blauklot, the carpenter, on that German ship that picked us up when the Klontarf went to the bottom? Who were herved to in a howling gear one night, a snug as you please, with no land within five hundred miles, and a ship coming up and falling off as regularly as clockwork. Biddy de Boer de Bibels assure a decent night. Boys, old Blauklot sang out as he went off to his quarters with a sailmaker. I often think of that, now that I'm ashore for good and all. Yes, it was on a night like this, when I was at home for a spell, waiting to take the Olympia out on her first trip. It was on the next voyage that she broke the record, you remember. But that dates it. Ninety-two was the year, early in November. The weather was dirty, Pratt was out of temper, and the dinner was bad, very bad indeed, which didn't improve matters and cold, which made it worse. The poor little lady was very unhappy about it and insistent on making a Welsh rabbit on the table to counteract the raw turnips and the half-boiled mutton. Pratt must have had a hard day. Perhaps he had lost a patient. At all events he was in a nasty temper. My wife is trying to poison me, you see, he said, she'll succeed some day. I saw that she was hurt, and I made believe to laugh and said that Mrs. Pratt was much too clever to get rid of her husband in such a simple way. And then I began to tell them about Japanese tricks with spun glass and chopped horse hair and the like. Pratt was a doctor, and knew a lot more than I did about such things, but that only put me on my metal, and I told a story about a woman in Ireland who did for three husbands before anyone suspected foul play. Did you never hear that tale? The fourth husband managed to keep awake and caught her, and she was hanged. How did she do it? She drank them, and poured melted lead into their ears through a little horned funnel when they were asleep. No, that's the wind whistling. It's backing up to the south wood again. I can tell by the sound. Besides, the other thing doesn't often come more than once in an evening, even at this time of year, when it happened. Yes, it was in November. Poor Mrs. Pratt died suddenly in her bed, not long after I dined here. I can fix the date, because I got the news in New York by the steamer that followed the Olympia when I took her out on her first trip. You had the view of Frick the same year? Yes, I remember. What a pair of old buffers we are coming to be, you and I. Nearly fifty years since we were apprentice together on the Klontarf. Shall you ever forget old Blauchlott? Beauty de bord, people's ashore, boys. Ha, ha, ha! Take a little more with all that water. It's the old Hulthscamp I found in the cellar when his house came to me, the same I brought Luke from Amsterdam five and twenty years ago. He had never touched a drop of it. Perhaps he's sorry now, poor fellow. Where did I leave off? I told you that Mrs. Pratt died suddenly. Yes. Luke must have been lonely here after she was dead, I should think. I came to see him now and then, and he looked worn and nervous, and told me that his practice was growing too heavy for him, though he wouldn't take an assistant on any account. Years went on and his son was killed in South Africa, and after that he began to be queer. There was something about him not like other people. I believe he kept his senses in his profession to the end. There was no complaint about his having made mad mistakes in cases or anything of that sort, but he had a look about him. Luke was a red-headed man with a pale face when he was young, and he was never stout. In middle age he turned into a sandy gray, and after his son died he grew thinner and thinner till his head looked like a skull with parchment stretched over it very tight, and his eyes had a sort of glare in them that was very disagreeable to look at. He had an old dog that poor Mrs. Pratt had been fond of and that used to follow her everywhere. He was a bulldog and the sweetest tempered beast you ever saw, though he had a way of reaching his upper lip behind one of his fangs that frightened strangers a good deal. Sometimes of an evening Pratt and Bumble that was the dog's name used to sit and look at each other a long time thinking about old times I suppose when Luke's wife used to sit in that chair you've got. That was always her place and this was the doctors where I am sitting. Bumble used to climb up by the footstool. He was old and fat by that time and could not jump much and his teeth were getting shaky. He would look steadily at Luke and Luke looked steadily at the dog his face growing more and more like a skull with two little calls for eyes and after about five minutes or so though it may have been less all Bumble would suddenly begin to shake all over and all of a sudden he would set up an awful howl and tumble out of the easy chair and trot away and hide himself under the sideboard and lie there making odd noises. Considering Pratt's looks in those last months the thing is not surprising you know I'm not nervous or imaginative but I can quite believe he might have sent a sensitive woman into hysterics. His head looked so much like a skull in parchment. At last I came down one day before Christmas when my ship was in dock and I had three weeks off Bumble was not about and I said casually that I suppose the old dog was dead Yes Pratt answered and I thought there was something odd in his turn even before he went on after a little pause I killed him he said presently I could stand it no longer I asked what it was that Luke could not stand though I guessed well enough he had a way of sitting in her chair and glaring at me and then howling Luke shivered a little he didn't suffer at all poor old Bumble he went on in a hurry as if he thought I might imagine he had been cruel I put Dyne into his drink to make him sleep soundly and then I chloroformed him gradually so that he could not have felt suffocated even if he was dreaming it's been quieter since then I wondered what he meant for the words slipped out as if he could not help saying them I've understood since he meant they did not hear that noise so often after the dog was out of the way perhaps he thought at first that it was old Bumble in the yard howling at the moon though it's not that kind of noise is it I know what it is if Luke didn't it's only a noise after all and a noise never hurt anybody yet but he was much more imaginative than I am no doubt there really is something about this place that I don't understand but when I don't understand a thing I call it a phenomenon and I don't take it for granted that it's going to kill me as he did I don't understand everything by long odds nor does any man who has been to sea we used to talk of tidal waves for instance and we could not account for them now we account for them by calling them submarine earthquakes and we branch off into 50 theories any one of which might make earthquakes quite comprehensible if we only knew what they were I fell in with one of them once and the ink stand flew straight up from the table against the ceiling in my cabin the same thing happened to Captain Leckie I daresay you've read about it in his wrinkles very good if that sort of thing took place for sure in this room for instance a nervous person would talk about spirits and levitation and 50 things that mean nothing instead of just quietly setting it down as a phenomenon that has not been explained yet my view of that voice you see besides what is there to prove that Luke cured his wife I would not even suggest such a thing to anyone but you after all there was nothing but the coincidence that poor little missus Pratt died suddenly in her bed a few days after I told that story at dinner she was not the only woman who ever died like that Luke got the doctor over from the next parish and they agreed that she had died of something that mattered with her heart why not? it's common enough of course there was the ladle I never told anyone about that and it made me start when I found it in the cupboard in the bedroom it was new too a little tinned iron ladle that had not been in the fire more than once or twice and there was some lady in it that had been melted and stuck to the bottom of the bowl with hardened dross on it but that proved nothing a country doctor is generally a handyman who does everything for himself and Luke may have had a dozen reasons for melting a little lead in a ladle he was fond of sea fishing for instance and he may have cast a sinker for a nightline perhaps it was a wait for the whole clock or something like that all the same when I found it I had a rather queer sensation because it looked so much like the thing I had described when I told them the story do you understand? it affected me unpleasantly and I threw it away is at the bottom of the sea a mile from the spit and it will be jolly well rusted beyond recognising if it's ever washed up by the tide you see Luke must have bought it in the village years ago for the man who just sells such ladle still I suppose they're used in cooking in any case there was no reason why an inquisitive housemaid should find such a thing lying about with lead in it and wonder what it was and perhaps talk to the maid who heard me tell the story at dinner for that girl married the plumber's son in the village and may remember the whole thing you understand me don't you? now that Luke Pratt is dead and gone and lies buried beside his wife with an honest man's tombstone at his head I should not care to stir up anything that could hurt his memory they are both dead and their son too there was trouble enough about Luke's death as it was how? he was found dead on the beach one morning and there was a coroner's inquest there were marks on his throat but he had not been robbed the verdict was that he had come to his end by the hands or teeth of some person or animal unknown for half the jury thought it might have been a big dog that had thrown him down and gripped his windpipe though the skin of his throat was not broken no one knew at what time he had gone out nor where he had been he was found lying on his back above high watermark an old cardboard band box that had belonged to his wife lay under his hand open the lid had fallen off he seemed to have been carrying home a skull in the box doctors are fond of collecting such things he had rolled out and lay near his head and it was a remarkably fine skull rather small beautifully shaped and very white with perfect teeth that is to say the upper jaw was perfect but there was no lower one at all to avoid it yes I found it here when I came you see it was very white and polished like a thing meant to be kept under a glass case and the people did not know where it had come from nor what to do with it so they put it back into the band box and set it on the shelf of the cupboard in the best bedroom and of course they showed it to me when I took possession I was taken down to the beach to be shown the place where Luke was found and the old fisherman explained just how he was lying and the skull beside him the only point he could not explain was why the skull had rolled up the sloping stand towards Luke's head instead of rolling downhill to his feet I did not seem odd to me at the time but I've often thought of it since for the place is rather steep or take you there tomorrow if you like I made a sort of pan of stones there afterwards when he fell down or was thrown down whichever happened the band box struck the sand and the lid came off and the thing came out and ought to have rolled down but it didn't it was close to his head or was touching it and turned with the face towards it I say it didn't strike me as odd when the man told me but I could not help thinking about it afterwards again and again until I saw a picture of it all when I closed my eyes and then I began to ask myself why the plaguey thing had rolled up instead of down and why to stop near Luke's head instead of anywhere else a yard away for instance you actually want to know what conclusion I reached don't you none that had all explained the rolling at all events but I got something else into my head after a time that made me feel downright uncomfortable oh I don't mean as to anything supernatural there may be ghosts or there may not be if there are I'm not inclined to believe they can hurt living people except by frightening them and for my part I'd rather face any shape of ghost than a fog in the channel when it's crowded no what bothered me was just a foolish idea and I cannot tell how it began nor what made it grow until it turned into a certainty I was thinking about Luke and his poor wife one evening over my pipe and a dull book when it occurred to me that the skull might possibly be hers and I've never got rid of the thought since you tell me there's no sense in it no doubt that Mrs Pratt was buried like a Christian and is lying in the church yard where they put her that is perfectly monstrous to suppose her husband kept her skull in her old band box in his bedroom all the same in the face of reason and common sense and probability I'm convinced that he did do all sorts of queer things which would make men like you and me feel creepy and those are just the things that don't seem probable or logical or sensible to us then don't you see if it really was her skull poor woman the only way of account of his having it is that he really killed her and did it in that way as the woman killed her husband's in the story that he was afraid there might be an examination someday which would betray him you see I told that too and I believe it had really happened some 50 or 60 years ago they dug up the three skulls you know and there was a small lump of lead rattling about in each one that was what hanged the woman Luke remembered that I'm sure I don't want to know what he did when he thought of it my taste never ran in the direction of horrors I don't fancy you care for them either do you no if you did you might supply what is wanting to the story it must have been rather grim eh I wish I did not see the whole thing so distinctly just as everything must have happened he took it the night before she was buried I'm sure after the coffin had been shut and when the servant girl was asleep I would bet anything that when he got it he put something under the sheet in its place to fill up and look like it what do you suppose he put there under the sheet I don't wonder you take me up on what I'm saying first I tell you I don't want to know what happened and that I hate to think about horrors and then I describe the whole thing to you as if I had seen it I'm quite sure that it was her work bag that he put there I remember the bag very well for she always used it of an evening it was made of brown plush and when it was stuffed full it was about the size of you understand yes there I am at it again you may laugh at me but you don't live here alone where it was done and you didn't tell Luke the story about the melted lead I'm not nervous I tell you but sometimes I begin to feel that I understand why some people are I dwell on all this when I'm alone and I dream of it and when that thing screams well frankly though I should be used to it by this time I ought not to be nervous I've sailed in a haunted ship there was a man in the top and two thirds of the crew died of the west coast fever inside of ten days after we anchored but I was alright then and afterwards I've seen some ugly sights too just as you have but nothing ever stuck in my head in the way this does you see I've tried to get rid of the thing but it doesn't like that it wants to be there in its place it misses Pratt's band box in the cupboard in the best bedroom it's not happy anywhere else how do I know that because I've tried it you don't suppose that I've not tried do you as long as it's there it only screams now and then generally at this time of year but if I put it out of the house it goes on all night a nurse servant will stay here 24 hours as it is I've often been left to learn and have been obliged to shift to myself for a fortnight at a time no one from the village would ever pass a night under the roof now and as for selling the place or even letting it, that's out of the question the old women say if I stay here I shall come to a bad end myself for a long I'm not afraid of that you smile at the mere idea that anyone could take such nonsense seriously quite right it's utterly blatant nonsense I agree with you didn't I tell you that it's only a noise after all when you started and looked around as if you expected to see a ghost standing behind your chair I may be all wrong but I can it may be just a fine specimen which Luke got somewhere long ago and what rattles about inside when you shake it may be nothing but a pebble or a bit of hard clay or anything skulls that have lain long in the ground generally have something inside them that rattles, don't they no, I've never tried to get it out whatever it is I'm afraid it might be lead don't you see as it is, I don't want to know the fact for I'd much rather not be sure if it really is lead I'd killed her quite as much as if I had done the deed myself anybody must see that, I should think as long as I'd know for certain I have the consolation of saying that it's all utterly ridiculous nonsense that Mrs. Pratt died a natural death that the beautiful skull belonged to Luke when he was a student in London but if I were quite sure I believe I should have to leave the house indeed I do, most certainly as it is, I had to give up trying to sleep in the best bedroom where the cupboard is you ask me why I don't throw it into the pond yes, but please don't call it a confounded bugbear it doesn't like being called names there Lord, what a shriek I told you sir you're quite pale, man fill up your pipe and draw your chair nearer to the fire and take some more drink old Hollins never hurt anybody yet I've seen a Dutchman in Java drink half a jug of hulkskamp in the morning without turning a hair I don't take much and rum myself because it doesn't agree with my rheumatism but you are not rheumatic and it won't damage you besides it's a very damp night outside the wind is howling again and it will soon be in the south west do you hear how the windows are rattled the tide must have turned too by the morning we should not have heard the thing again if you had not said that I'm pretty sure we should not oh yes if you choose to describe it as a coincidence you are quite welcome but I would rather that you should not call the thing names again if you don't mind it may be that the poor little woman hears and perhaps it hurts her don't you know ghosts? no you don't call anything a ghost that you can take in your hands and look out in broad daylight and that rattles when you shake it do you now but it's something that hears and understands there's no doubt about that I tried sleeping in the best bedroom when I first came to the house it was the best and most comfortable but I had to give it up it was their room and there's the big bed she died in and the cupboard is in the thickness of the wall near the head on the left that's where it likes to be kept in its band box I only used the room for a fortnight after I came and then I turned out and there was a little room downstairs next to the surgery where Luke used to sleep in during the night I was always a good sleeper assure 8 hours is my dose 11 to 7 when I'm alone 12 to 8 when I have a friend with me but I could not sleep after 3 o'clock in the morning in that room a quarter past to be accurate as a matter of fact I timed it with my old pocket chronometer which still keeps good time and it was always at exactly 17 minutes past 3 I wonder whether that was the hour when she died it was not what you have heard if it had been that I wouldn't have stood it 2 nights it was just a start and a moan and hard breathing for a few seconds in the cupboard and it could never have waked me under ordinary circumstances I'm sure I suppose you are like me in that and we are just like other people who have been to see no natural sounds disturb us at all not all the racket of a square we get hoved to in a heavy gale or rolling on her beam ends before the wind but if a lead pencil gets adrift and rattles in the drawer of your cabin table you are awake in a moment just so you are always understand very well the noise in the cupboard was no louder than that but it waked me instantly I said it was like a start I know what I mean but it's hard to explain without seeming to talk nonsense of course you cannot exactly hear a person start at the most you might hear a quick drawing of the breath between the parted lips and closed teeth and the almost imperceptible sound of clothing that moved suddenly though very slightly it was like that you know how one feels what a sailing vessel is going to do two or three seconds before she does it when one has the wheel riders say it's the same of a horse but that's less strange because the horse is a live animal with feelings of its own and only poets and landsmen talk about a ship being alive and all that but I've always felt somehow that besides being a steaming machine or a sailing machine for carrying weights a vessel at sea is a sensitive instrument and a means of communication between nature and man and most particularly the man at the wheel if she is steered by hand she takes her impressions directly from wind and sea tide and stream and transmits them to the man's hand just as the wireless telegraphy picks up the interrupted carrots and turns them out below in the form of a message you see what I'm driving at I felt that something started in the cupboard and I felt it so vividly that I heard it though there may have been nothing to hear and the sound inside my head waked me suddenly but I really heard the other noise it was as if it were muffled inside a box as far away as if it came through a long distance telephone and yet I knew that it was inside the cupboard my hair did not bristle and my blood did not run cold that time I simply presented being waked up by something that had no business to make a noise any more than a pencil should rattle in the drawer of my cabin table on board ship for I did not understand I just suppose that the cupboard had some communication with the outside air under the wind and got in I was moaning through it with a sort of very faint screech I struck a light and looked at my watch and it was seventeen minutes past three then I turned over and went to sleep on my right ear that's my good one I'm pretty deaf with the other for I struck the water with it when I was a lad in diving from the four tops of the yard silly thing to do it was but the result is very convenient to sleep when there's a noise that was the first night and the same thing happened again and several times afterwards but not regularly though it was always at the same time to a second perhaps I was somewhat time sleeping on my good ear and sometimes not I overhauled the cupboard and there was no way by which the wind could get in or anything else for the door makes a good fit having been meant to keep out moths I suppose Mrs Pratt must have kept her winter things in it for it still smells of camphor and turpentine after about a fortnight I had had enough of the noises so far I had said to myself that it would be silly to yield to it and take the skull out of the room things always look differently by daylight don't they but the voice grew louder I suppose one may call it a voice and it got inside my deaf ear too one night I realised that when I was wide awake my good ear was jammed down on the pillow and I ought not to have heard a foghorn in that position but I heard that and it made me lose my temper unless it scared me for sometimes the two are not far apart I struck a light and got up the window as far as I could then my hair stood on end the things screamed in the air like a shell from a 12 inch gun it fell on the other side of the road the night was very dark and I could not see it fall by no it fell beyond the road the window was just over the front door 15 yards to the fence more or less and the road is 10 yards wide there's a thick set hedge beyond along the gleam that belongs to the vicarage I did not sleep much more that night it was not much more than half an hour after I had thrown the band box out when I heard a shriek outside like what we've had tonight but worse more despairing I should call it it may be my imagination but I could have sworn that the screams came near even nearer each time I lit a pipe and walked up and down for a bit and then took a book and sat up reading but I'll be hanged if I can remember what I read nor even what the book was for every now and then a shriek came up that would have made a dead man turn in his coffin a little before dawn someone knocked at the front door there was no mistaking that for anything else and I opened my window and looked down for I guess that someone wanted the doctor supposing that the new man had taken Luke's house it was rather relief to hear a human knock after that awful noise you cannot see the door from above owing to the little porch the knocking came again and I called out asking who was there but nobody answered though the knock was repeated I sang out again and said that the doctor did not live here any longer there was no answer but it occurred to me that it might be some old countryman who was stern deaf so I took my candle and went down to open the door upon my word I was not thinking of the thing yet and I had almost forgotten the other noises I went down convinced that I should find somebody outside on the doorstep with a message I set the candle on the hall table so that the wind should not blow it out when I opened when I was drawing the old fashioned bolt I heard the knocking again it was not loud and it had a queer hollow sound now that I was close to it I remember but I certainly thought it was made by some person who wanted to get in it wasn't there was nobody there but as I opened the door inward the candle on one side so as to see out at once something rolled across the threshold and stopped against my foot I drew back as I felt it for I knew what it was before I looked down I cannot tell you how I knew and it seemed unreasonable for I am still quite sure that I had thrown it across the road it's a French window that opens wide and I got a good swing when I flung it out besides when I went out early in the morning I found the band box beyond the thick hedge you may think it opened when I threw it that the skull dropped out but that's impossible for nobody could throw an empty cardboard box so far it's out of the question you might as well try to fling a ball of paper 25 yards or a blown bird's egg to go back out of the whole door picked the thing up carefully and put it on the table beside the candle I did that mechanically as one instinctively does the right thing in danger without thinking at all unless one does the opposite it may seem odd but I believe my first thought had been that someone might come and find me there on the threshold while I was resting against my foot lying a little on its side and turning one hollow eye up at my face as if it meant to accuse me and the light and shadow from the candle played in the hollows of the eyes as it stood on the table so they seemed to open and shut at me then the candle went out quite unexpectedly though the door was fastened and there was not the least draft and I used up at least half a dozen batches before it would burn again I sat down rather suddenly without quite knowing why probably I had been badly frightened and perhaps you will admit there was no great shame in being scared the thing had come home and it wanted to go upstairs back to its cupboard I sat still and stared at it for a bit till I began to feel very cold then I took it and carried it up and set it in its place and I remembered that I spoke to it and promised that it should have its band box again in the morning you wanted to know whether I stayed in the room till daybreak yes but I kept the light burning and set up smoking and reading most likely out of fright plain, undeniable fear and you need not call it cowardice either for that's not the same thing I could not have stayed alone with that thing in the cupboard I should have been scared to death though I'm not more timid than other people confound it all man it had crossed the road alone and had got up the doorstep and had knocked to be let in when the door came I put on my boots and went out to find the band box I had to go a good way round by the gate near the high road and I found the box open and hanging on the other side of the hedge it had caught on the twigs by the string and the lid had fallen off and was lying on the ground below it that shows that it did not open till it was well over and if it had not opened as soon as it had left by hand what was inside it must have gone beyond the road too that's all I took the box upstairs to the cupboard and put the skull back and locked it up when the girl brought me my breakfast sorry but she must go and she did not care if she lost her month's wages I looked at her and her face was a sort of greenish yellowish white I pretended to be surprised and asked what was the matter but that was of no use for she just turned on me and wanted to know whether I meant to stay in a haunted house and how long I expected to live if I did for those she noticed I was sometimes a little hard of hearing she did not believe that even I could sleep through those screams again and if I could why had I been moving about the house and opening and shutting the front door between three and four in the morning there was no answering that since she had heard me so off she went and I was left to myself I went down to the village during the morning and found a woman who was willing to come and do the little work there is and cook my dinner on condition so that I could go home every night as for me I moved downstairs that day and I have never tried to sleep in the best bedroom since after a little while I got a brace of middle aged Scots servants from London and things were quiet enough for a long time I began by telling them that the house was in a very exposed position and that the wind whistled around it a good deal in the autumn and winter which had given it a bad name in the village the Cornish people being inclined superstition and telling ghost stories the two hard faced sandy haired sisters almost smiled and they answered with great contempt that they had no great opinion of any southern burgey whatever having been in service in two English haunted houses where they had never seen so much as the boy in grey whom they reckoned no very particular rarity in four fascia they stayed at least several months and while they were in the house we had peace and quiet one of them is here again now but she went away with her sister within a year this one she was the cook married the sexton who works in my garden that's the way of it it's a small village and he has not much to do and he knows enough about flowers to help me nicely besides doing most of the hard work for though I fond of exercise and I'm getting a little stiff in the hinges he's a serba silent sort of fellow who minds his own business and he was a widower when I came here Trahan is his name James Trahan the Scottish sisters would not admit that there was anything wrong about the house but when November came they gave me warning that they were going on the ground of the chapel was such a long walk from here being the next parish to possibly go to our church but the younger one came back in the spring and as soon as the bands could be published she was married to James Trahan by the vicar and she seems to have had no scruples about hearing him preach since then I'm quite satisfied if she is the couple live in a small cottage that looks over the church out I suppose you are wondering what all this has to do with what I'm talking about I'm alone so much that when an old friend comes to see me I sometimes go on talking just for the sake of hearing my own voice but in this case there really is a connection of ideas it was James Trahan who buried poor Mrs Pratt and her husband after her in the same grave that is not far from the back of his cottage that's the connection in my mind you see it's plain enough he knows something but I'm quite sure he does though he's such a reticent beggar End of The Screaming Skull Part 1 by I. F. Marion Crawford Recording by L. G. Pug Perth, Western Australia The Screaming Skull by I. F. Marion Crawford Part 2 This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information please visit LibriVox.org Recording by L. G. Pug The Screaming Skull Part 2 Yes, I'm alone in the house at night now her Mrs Trahan does everything herself and when I have a friend the sexton's niece comes in to wait on the table he takes his wife home every evening in winter and when there's light she goes by herself she's not a nervous woman but she's less sure than she used to be that there are no burgies in England worth a scotch woman's notice isn't it amusing the idea that Scotland has a monopoly of the supernatural odd sort of national pride I call that, don't you? that's a good fire isn't it? when Driftwood gets started I think yes, we get lots of it but I'm sorry to say there are still a great many wrecks about here it's a lonely coast you may have all the wood you want for the trouble of bringing it in to her and I borrow a cart now and then and load it between here and the spit I hate a coal fire when I can get wood of any sort a log is a company or timber sawn off and the salt in it makes pretty sparks see how they fly like Japanese hand fireworks upon my word with an old friend on a good fire and a pipe one forgets all about that thing upstairs especially now that the wind has moderated it's only a lull though and it will blow a gale before morning you think you would like to see the skull I've no objection there's no reason why you shouldn't have a look at it you never saw a more perfect one in your life except that there are two front teeth missing in the lower jaw oh yes I had not told you about the jaw yet Trahan found it in the garden last spring when he was digging a pit for a new asparagus bed you know we make asparagus beds six or eight feet deep here yes yes I had forgotten I tell you that he was digging straight down just as he digs a grave if you want a good asparagus bed made I advise you to get a sextant to make it for you those fellows have a wonderful knack of that sort of digging Trahan had got down about three feet when he cut into a massive white lime in the side of the trench he had noticed that the earth was a little looser there but for a number of years I suppose he thought that even old lime might not be good for asparagus so he broke it out and threw it up it was pretty hard he says in big-ish lumps and out of sheer force of habit he cracked the lumps with his spade as they lay outside the pit beside him the jaw-burn of the skull dropped out of one of the pieces he thinks he must have knocked out the two front teeth in breaking up the lime but he did not see them anywhere he's a very experienced man in such things as you may imagine and he said at once that the jaw had probably belonged to a young woman and that the teeth had been complete when she died he brought it to me and asked me if I wanted to keep it if I did not he said he would drop it into the next grave he made in a churchyard as he supposed it was a Christian jaw an ought to have decent burial wherever the rest of the body might be I told him the doctors often put burns into quick lime to whiten them nicely and that I suppose Dr Pratt had once had a little lime pit in the garden for that purpose and had forgotten the jaw Traher looked at me quietly maybe it fitted that skull that used to be in a cupboard upstairs sir he said maybe Dr Pratt had put the skull into the lime to clean it or something and when he took it out he left the lower jaw behind that some human hair sticked in the lime sir I saw there was and that was what Traheron said if he did not suspect something why in the world should he have suggested that the jaw might fit the skull besides it did that's proof that he knows more than he cares to tell do you suppose he looked before she was buried or perhaps when he buried Luke in the same grave well well it's all of no use to go over that is it I said I would keep the jaw with the skull and I took it upstairs and fitted it into its place there's not the slightest doubt the two belonging together and together they are Traheron knows several things we were talking about plaster in the kitchen a while ago and he happened to remember that it had not been done since the very week when Mrs Pratt died he did not say that the mason must have left some lime on the place but he thought it and that it was the very same lime he had found in the asparagus pit he knows a lot Traheron is one of your silent beggars who can put two and two together that grave is very near the back of his cottage too and is one of the quickest men with a spade I ever saw if he wanted to know the truth he could and no one else would ever be the wiser unless he chose to tell in a quiet village like Owls people don't go and spend the night in the churchyard to see whether the sexton pot is about by himself between ten o'clock in daylight what is awful to think of is Luke's deliberation if he did it his cool certainty that no one would find him out above all his nerve for that must have been extraordinary I sometimes think it's bad enough to live in the place where it was done I always put in the condition you see for the sake of his memory and a little bit for my own sake too I'll go upstairs and fetch the box in a minute let me light my pipe there's no hurry we had supper early it is only half past nine o'clock I never let a friend go to bed before twelve or with less than three glasses you may have as many more as you'd like but you shan't have less for the sake of old times it's breezing up again do you hear that was only a lull just now and we are going to have a bad night a thing happened that made me start a little when I found the jaw fitted exactly I'm not very easily startled in that way myself but I have seen people make a quick movement drawing their breath sharply and thought they were alone and suddenly turned and saw someone very near them no one can call that fear you wouldn't would you no well just as I'd set the jaw in its place under the skull the teeth closed sharply on my finger it felt exactly as if it were biting me hard and I confess that I jumped before I realised that I'd been pressing the jaw and the skull together with my other hand I assure you I was not at all nervous it was broad daylight too and a fine day and the sun was streaming into the best bedroom it would have been absurd to be nervous it was only a quick mistake and impression but it really made me feel queer somehow it made me think of the funny verdict of the coroner's jury on Luke's death by the hand or teeth of some person or animal unknown ever since that I've wished I'd seen those marks on his throat though the lower jaw was missing then I've often seen a man do insane things with his hands he does not realise at all I once saw a man hanging on by an old awning stop with one hand leaning backward, outward with all his weight on it and he was just cutting the stop and when I got my arms around him we were in mid-ocean doing twenty knots he had not the smallest idea what he was doing neither had I when I managed to pinch my finger between the teeth of that thing I can feel it now it was exactly as if it were alive and were trying to bite me it would if it could for I know it hates me, poor thing do you suppose what a rattles about inside is really a bit of lead well, I'll get the box down presently and if whatever it is happens to drop out into your hands, that's your affair if it was only a clot of earth or a pebble the whole matter would be off my mind and I don't believe I should ever think of the skull again but somehow I cannot bring myself to shake out the bit of hard stuff myself the mere idea that it may be lead makes me confoundedly uncomfortable yet I've got the conviction that I shall know before long I shall certainly know I'm sure it's a hair nose but he's such a silent beggar I'll go upstairs and get it what? you better come with me ha ha ha you think I'm afraid of a band box and a noise? nonsense bother the candle it won't light as if the ridiculous thing understood what it's wanted for look at that the third match they light fast enough in my pipe there, do you see it's a fresh box just out of the tin safe where I keep the supply on account of the dampness oh, you think the wick of the candle may be damp, do you? alright I'll light the beastly thing in the fire that won't go out at all events yes, it sputters a bit but it will keep lighted now it burns just like any other candle, doesn't it? the fact is candles are not very good about here I don't know where they come from but they have a way of burning low occasionally with a greenish flame that spits tiny sparks and I'm often annoyed by they're going out of themselves they cannot be helped or will be long before we have electricity in our village it really is a rather poor light, isn't it? you think I'd better leave you the candle and take the lamp, do you? I don't like to carry lamps about that's the truth I never dropped one in my life but I've always thought I might and it's so confoundly dangerous if you do besides I'm pretty well used to these rotten candles by this time you may as well finish that glass while I'm getting it for I don't mean to put you off with less than three before you go to bed you won't have to go upstairs either for I put you in the old study next to the surgery that's where I live myself the fact is I never ask a friend to sleep upstairs now the last man who did was Krakenthor and he said he was kept awake all night you remember old Kraken, don't you? he stuck to the service and they've just made him an admiral yes, I'm off now unless the candle goes out I couldn't help asking if you remembered Krakenthor if anyone had told us that the skinny little idiot he used to be was to turn out the most successful of the lot of us we should have laughed at the idea shouldn't we? you and I did not do badly but I'm really going now I don't mean to let you think I've been putting it off by talking as if there are anything to be afraid of if I was scared I should tell you so quite frankly and get you to go upstairs with me here's the box I brought it down very carefully so as not to disturb it poor thing you see, if it was shaken the jaw might get separated from it again and I'm sure it wouldn't like that yes, the candle went out as I was coming downstairs but that was the draught Maliki window on the landing did you hear anything? yes there was another screen am I pale? do you say? that's nothing my heart is a little queer sometimes and I went upstairs too fast in fact that's one reason why I really prefer to live all together on the ground floor wherever the shriek came from it was not from the skull for I had the box in my hand when I heard the noise and here it is now so we have proved definitely that the screams are produced by something else I have no doubt I shall find out someday what makes them some crevice in the wall of course or a crack in the chimney or a chink in the frame of a window that's the way all ghost stories end in real life do you know I'm jolly glad I thought of going up and bringing it down for you to see for the last shriek settles the question to think that I had been so weak as to fancy that the poor skull could really cry out like a living thing now I'll open the box and we'll take it out and look at it under the bright light it's rather awful to think that the poor lady used to sit there in your chair evening after evening in just the same light, isn't it but then I've made up my mind that it's all rubbish from beginning to end and that it's just an old skull that Luke had when he was a student and perhaps he put it into the lime merely to whiten it and could not find the jaw I made his seal on the stream you see after I'd put the jaw in its place and I wrote on the cover there's the old white label on it still from the milleners and the rest to Mrs Pratt when the hat was sent to her and as there was room I wrote on the edge a skull once the property of the late Luke Pratt MD I don't quite know why I wrote that unless it was with the idea of explaining how the thing happened to be in my possession I cannot help wondering sometimes what sort of hat it was that came in the band box what colour was it do you think was it a gay spring hat with a bobbing feather and pretty ribbons strange that the very same box should hold the head that wore the finery perhaps no, we made up our minds that it just came from the hospital in London where Luke did his time it's far better to look at it in that light, isn't it there's no more connection between that skull and poor Mrs Pratt than it was between my story about the lead and good lord, take the lamp don't let it go out if you can help it I'll have the window fastened again in a second I say, what a gale there, it's out I told you so never mind there's the firelight I've got the window shut the bolt was only half down it went off the table where's the juice is it there that won't open again for I put up the bar good dodge, an old fashioned bar there's nothing like it now, you find the band box while I light the lamp confound those wretched matches yes, a pipe spill is better it must light in the fire hadn't thought of it, thank you there we are again now, where's the box put it back on the table and we'll open it that's the first time I've ever known the wind to burst that window open but it's partly carelessness on my part when I last shut it yes, of course I heard the scream it seemed to go all around the house before it broke in at the window that proves that it's always been the wind and nothing else, doesn't it when it was not the wind it was my imagination it of man, I must have been though I did not know it as we grow older we understand ourselves better, don't you know I'll have a drop of the Hulse Camp Neat by way of an exception since you were filling up your glass that damp gust chilled me with my rheumatic tendency I'm very much afraid of a chill for the cold sometimes seems to stick in my joints all winter when it once gets in bye George, that's good stuff I'll just light a fresh pipe now that everything is snug again and then we'll open the box I'm so glad we heard that last scream together with a skull here on the table between us for a thing cannot possibly be in two places at the same time and the noise most certainly came from outside as any noise the wind makes must you thought you heard it scream through the room after the window has burst open oh yes so did I but that was natural enough when everything was open of course we heard the wind what could one expect look here please I want you to see that the seal is intact before we open the box together will you take my glasses no you have your own alright the seal is sound you see and you can read the words of the motto easily tweet and lo that's it because the poem goes on wind of the western sea and says blow him again to me and all that here's the seal on my watch chain where it's hung for more than 40 years my poor little wife gave it to me when I was courting and I never had any other it was just like her to think of those words she was always fond of Tennyson it's no use to cut the string for it's fastened to the box so just break the wax and untie the knot and afterwards we'll seal it up again you see I like to feel that the thing is safe in its place and that nobody can take it out not that I should suspect Rehearn of meddling with it but I always feel that he knows a lot more than he tells you see I've managed without breaking the string that when I fastened it I had to open the band box again the lid comes off easily enough there now look what? nothing in it? empty it's gone man the skull is gone no there's nothing to matter with me I'm only trying to collect my thoughts it's so strange I'm positively certain that it was inside when I put the seal on last spring I can't have imagined that it's utterly impossible if I ever took a stiff glass friend now and then I would admit that I might have made some idiotic mistake when I had taken too much but I don't and I never did a pint of ale at supper and half a go of rum at bedtime was the most I ever took in my good days I believe it's always we Serb fellows who get rheumatism and gout yet there was my seal and there is the empty band box that's plain enough I say I don't half like this I'm not right there's something wrong about it in my opinion you needn't talk to me about supernatural manifestations for I don't believe in them not a little bit somebody must have tabbed with the seal and stolen the skull sometimes when I go out to work in the garden in summer I leave my watch and chain on the table Traheon must have taken the seal then and used it for he would be quite sure that I should not if it was not Traheon oh don't talk to me about the possibility that the thing has got out by itself if it has it must be somewhere about the house in some out of the way corner waiting we may come upon it anywhere waiting for us don't you know just waiting in the dark then it will scream at me it will shriek at me in the dark for it hates me I tell you the band box is quite empty we are not dreaming either of us there I turn it upside down what's that something fell out as I turned it over it's on the floor it's near your feet I know it is and we must find it help me to find it man have you got it for God's sake give it to me quickly led I knew it when I heard it fall I knew it couldn't be anything else by the little thud it made on the heart rung so it was led after all then Luke did it I feel a little bit shaken up not exactly nervous you know but badly shaken up that's the fact anyone would I should think after all you cannot say that it's fear of the thing for I went up and brought it down at least I believed I was bringing it down and that's the same thing and by George rather than to give in to such silly nonsense I'll take the box upstairs again and put it back in its place it's not that it's the certainty that the poor little woman came to her end in that way by my fault because I told the story that's what is so dreadful somehow I had always hoped that I should never be quite sure of it but there's no doubting it now look at that look at it that little lump of lead with no particular shape think of what it did man doesn't it make you shiver he gave her something to make her sleep of course but there must have been one moment of awful agony think of having boiling lead poured into your brain think of it she was dead before she could scream but only think oh there it is again it's just outside I know it's outside I can't keep it out of my head oh oh you thought I had fainted no I wish I had for it would have stopped sooner it's all very well to say that it's only a noise and that a noise never hurt anybody you're as white as a shroud yourself there's only one thing to be done if we hope to close an eye tonight we must find it and put it back into its band box and shut it up in the cupboard where it likes to be I don't know how it got out but it wants to get in again that's why it screams so awfully tonight it was never so bad as this never since I first bury it yes if we can find it we'll bury it if it takes us all night we'll bury it six feet deep and ram down the earth over it so that it shall never get out again and if it screams we shall hardly hear it so deep down quick we'll get the lantern and look for it it cannot be far away I'm sure it's just outside I shut the window I know it yes you're quite right I'm losing my senses and I must get hold of myself don't speak to me for a minute or two or sit quite still and keep my eyes shut and repeat something I know that's the best way add together the altitude the latitude and the polar distance divide by two the logarithm of the secant of the latitude the cosecant of the polar distance the cosine of the half sum and the sine of the half sum minus the altitude there don't say that I'm out of my senses for my memory is alright isn't it? of course you may say that it's mechanical and that we never forget the things we learnt when we were boys and have used almost every day for a lifetime but that's the very point when a man is going crazy it's the mechanical part of his mind that gets out of order and won't work right he remembers things that never happened or he sees things that aren't real or he hears noises when there is perfect silence that's not what is the matter with either of us is it? come or get the lantern and go round the house only blowing like old boots as we used to say the lantern is in the cupboard under the stairs in the hall and I always keep it trimmed in case of a wreck no use to look for the thing I don't see how you can say that it was nonsense to talk of burying it of course for it doesn't want to be buried he wants to go back in his band box and be taken upstairs poor thing Treheron took it out I know and made the seal over again perhaps he took it to the churchyard and he may have meant well I dare say he thought that it would not scream any more if it were quietly laid in consecrated ground near where it belongs but it has come home yes that's it he's not half a bad fellow Treheron and rather religiously inclined I think does that not sound natural and reasonable and well meant he supposed it screamed because it was not decently buried with the rest but he was wrong how should he know that it screams at me because it hates me and because it's my fault that there was that little lump of lead in it no use to look for it anyhow nonsense I tell you it wants to be found Huck what's that knocking do you hear it knock knock knock three times then a pause then again it has a hollow sound hasn't it it has come home I've heard that knock before it wants to come in and be taken upstairs in its box it's at the front door will you come with me we'll take it in yes I own that I don't like to go alone and open the door the thing will roll in and stop against my foot just as it did before and the light will go out I'm good deal shaken by finding that bit of lead and besides my heart isn't quite right too much strong to backer perhaps besides I'm quite willing to own that I'm a bit nervous tonight if I never was before in my life that's right come along I'll take the box with me so as not to come back do you hear the knocking it's not like any other knocking I've ever heard if you will hold this door open I can find the lantern under the stairs by the light from this room without bringing the lamp into the hall it would only go out the thing knows we are coming ha it's impatient to get in don't shut the door till the lantern is ready whatever you do there will be the usual trouble with the matches I suppose no the first one by Joe do you it wants to come in so there's no trouble all right with that door now shut it please now come and hold the lantern for it's blowing so hard outside that I shall have to use both hands that's it hold the light low do you hear the knocking still here goes I'll open just enough with my foot against the bottom of the door now catch it it's only the wind that blows it across the floor there's half a hurricane outside I tell you have you got it the band box is on the table one minute and I'll have the bar up there why did you throw it into the box so roughly it doesn't like that you know what did you say bitten your hand nonsense man you did just what I did you pressed the doors together with your other hand and pinched yourself you don't mean to say you have drawn blood you must have squeezed hard by Joe for the skin is certainly torn I'll give you some carbolic solution for it before we go to bed for they say a scratch from a skull's tooth may go bad and give trouble come inside again and let me see it by the lamp I'll bring the band box never mind the lantern it may just as well burn in the hall for I shall need it presently on the stairs yes shut the door if you will it makes it more cheerful and bright is your finger still bleeding I'll get you the carbolic in an instant just let me see the thing there's a drop of blood on the upper jaw it's on the eye tooth ghastly isn't it when I saw it running along the floor of the hall the strength almost went out of my hand and I felt my knees bending then I understood it was the gale driving it over the smooth boards you don't blame me no I should think not we were boys together and we've seen a thing or two we may just as well own to each other that we were both in a beastly funk when it slid across the floor at you no wonder you pinched your finger picking it up after that if I did the same thing out of sheer nervousness in broad daylight with the sun streaming in on me strange that the jaw should stick to it so closely isn't it I suppose it's the dampness for a church like a vice I have wiped off the drop of blood for it's not nice to look at I'm not going to try and open the jaws don't be afraid I shall not pray any tricks with that poor thing but I'll just seal the box again and we'll take it upstairs and put it away where it wants to be the wax is on the writing table by the window thank you it will be long before I leave my seal lying about again for Treheon to use I can tell you explain I don't explain natural phenomena but if you choose to think that Treheon and hidden it somewhere in the bushes and that the gale blew it to the house against the door and made it knock as if it wanted to be let in you're not thinking the impossible and I'm quite ready to agree with you do you see that you can swear that you've actually seen me seal at this time in case anything of the kind should occur again the wax fashions the strings to the lid which cannot possibly be lifted even enough to get in one finger you're quite satisfied aren't you yes besides I shall lock the cupboard and keep the key in my pocket hereafter now we can take the lantern and go upstairs do you know I'm very much inclined to agree with your theory that the wind blew it against the house all go ahead for I know the stairs just hold the lantern near my feet as we go up how the wind howls and whistles did you feel the sound on the floor under your shoes as we crossed the hall yes this is the door of the best bedroom hold up the lantern please this side by the head of the bed I left the cupboard open when I got the box isn't it queer how the faint odour of women's dresses will hang about an old closet for years this is the shelf you've seen me set the box there and now you see me turn the key and put it into my pocket so that's done good night are you sure you're quite comfortable it's not much of a room but I dare say you would as soon sleep here as upstairs tonight if you want anything sing out there's only a lathe and plaster partition between us there's not so much wind on this side by half there's the hollands on the table if you'll have one more nightcap no well do as you please good night again and don't dream about that thing if you can the following paragraph appeared in the Penn Arradon news 23rd of November 1906 mysterious death of retired sea captain the village of Treadcom is much disturbed by the strange death of Captain Charles Braddock and all sorts of impossible stories are circulating with regard to the circumstances which certainly seem difficult of explanation the retired captain who has successfully commanded in his time the largest and fastest liners belonging to one of the principal transatlantic steamship companies was found dead in his bed on Tuesday morning in his own cottage a quarter of a mile from the village an examination was made at once by the local practitioner which revealed the horrible fact that the deceased had been bitten in the throat by a human assailant with such amazing force as to crush the windpipe and cause death the marks of the teeth of both jaws were so plainly visible on the skin that they could be counted but the perpetrator of the deed had evidently lost the two lower middle incisors it is hoped that this peculiarity may help to identify the murderer who can only be a dangerous escaped maniac the deceased though over 65 years of age is said to have been a hailed man of considerable physical strength it is remarkable that no signs of any struggle were visible in the room to be ascertained how the murderer had entered the house warning has been sent to all the insane asylums in the United Kingdom but as yet no information has been received regarding the escape of any dangerous patient the coroner's jury returned the somewhat singular verdict that Captain Braddock came to his death by the hands or teeth of some person unknown the local surgeon is said to have expressed privately the opinion that the maniac is a woman a view he deduces from the small size of the jaws as shown by the marks of the teeth the whole affair is shrouded in mystery Captain Braddock was a widower and lived alone he leaves no children author's note students of ghost lore and haunted houses will find the foundation of the foregoing story in the legends about a skull which is still preserved in a farmhouse called Betiscombe Manor situated I believe on the Dorsetshire coast End of The Screaming Skull by If Marion Crawford Recording by Algie Pug Perth, Western Australia