of the gravel beneath my window informed me our persecutor was trying to gain admittance.
“These nocturnal disturbances ceasing, I had begun to congratulate myself upon having seen the last of the hauntings, when a rumour reached me that the clock had actually begun to infest the more lonely of the lanes and by-roads.
“Nor did this report, as the sequel will show, long remain unverified.
“My uncle John, a rare old ‘sport,’ came to stay with me. He arrived about ten, and we had not yet gone to bed when the vicar of the parish burst into our presence in the greatest state of agitation.
“ ‘I must apologise for this late visit,’ he gasped, sinking into an easy chair, ‘I couldn’t get here before. Indeed, I did not intend calling this evening, and would not have done so but for an extraordinary incident that has just happened. Would you think it very unclerical if I were to ask you for a glass of neat brandy?’
“I glanced at him in ill-disguised terror. His blanched cheeks and trembling hands told their own tale—he had seen the clock.
“ ‘Thanks awfully,’ he said, replacing the empty glass on the table. ‘I feel better now—but, by jove! it DID unnerve me. Let me tell you from the beginning. I had been calling at Gillet’s Farm, which, as you know, is two or more miles from here, and the night being fine, I decided to go home by the fields. Well! all was right till I got to the little spinney lying at the foot of Dickson’s Hollow.
“ ‘Even in broad daylight I always feel a trifle apprehensive before entering it, as it is often frequented by tramps and other doubtful characters: in fact, there isn’t a more murderous looking spot in the county.
“ ‘All was so still, so unusually still I thought, and the shadows so incomprehensible that I had half a mind to retrace my steps, but, disliking to appear cowardly, and remembering, I must confess, that I had ordered a roast duck for supper, I climbed the wooden fence and plunged into the copse.
“ ‘At every step the silence increased, the cracking of twigs under my feet sounding like the report of firearms, whilst it grew so dark that I had in certain places literally to feel my way. When about halfway through the wood the shrubs that line the path on either side abruptly terminate, bringing into view a circle of sward, partially covered with ferns and bracken, and having in its midst a stunted willow that has always struck me as being peculiarly out of place there.
“ ‘Indeed, I was pondering over this incongruity when a tall figure stalked out from behind the tree, and, gliding swiftly forward, took to the path ahead of me.
“ ‘I rubbed my eyes and stared in amazement, and no doubt you will think me mad when I tell you the figure was nothing human.’
“ ‘What was it, then—an anthropoid ape?’ my Uncle John laughed.
“The vicar shook his head solemnly.
“ ‘I will describe it to you to the best of my ability,’ he said. ‘To begin with it was naked—stark, staring naked!’
“ ‘How positively indecent,’ murmured Uncle John, ‘really vicar, I don’t wonder you were frightened.’
“ ‘And then,’ the vicar continued, disregarding the interruption, ‘it was grey!—from head to foot a uniform livid grey.’
“ ‘A grey monstrosity! Ah! now THAT is interesting!’
“I looked at my uncle quizzically—was he still joking? But no! he was in sober earnest: could it be possible he knew anything about the clock.
“I leaned back in my chair and smiled—feebly.
“ ‘In height,’ the vicar went on, ‘it could not have been far from seven feet, it had an enormous round head crowned with a black mass of shock hair, no ears, huge spider-like hands and toeless feet.
“ ‘I could not see its face as its back was turned on me.
“ ‘Urged on by an irresistible impulse (although half dead with terror), I followed the Thing.
“ ‘Striding noiselessly along, it left the spinney, and crossing several fields entered your grounds by the gate in the rear of the house.’
“ ‘What!’ my uncle roared, banging the table with his fist, ‘what! do you mean to tell me you allowed it to come here!’
“ ‘I couldn’t stop it,’ the vicar said apologetically, stretching forward to help himself to some more brandy. ‘It led me to your summer-house, vanishing through the doorway. Resolved on seeing the last, and hoping thereby to discover some clue to the mystery, I cautiously approached the window, and, peering through the glass, saw the creature walk stealthily across the floor and disappear into a gigantic clock. I verily believe I was as much scared by the sight of that clock as I had been by the appearance of the spectre—they were both satanically awful.’
“ ‘Is that all?’ my Uncle John inquired.
“ ‘It is,’ the vicar replied, ‘and is it not enough?’
“My Uncle John got on his feet.
“ ‘Before returning a verdict,’ he said, ‘I must see the clock. Let us go to the summer-house at once.’
“The vicar and I were loud in our protests—‘We were sure my uncle must be tired; better put off the investigation to the morrow.’
“It was, however, of no avail; there was no gainsaying Uncle John when once he had made up his mind to do anything.
“We accordingly escorted him without further delay to the garden.
“The clock was standing quite peacefully where I had had it set.
“As soon as my uncle saw it he caught hold of my arm. ‘Where on earth did you get it from, Harry?’ he cried, bubbling over with excitement. ‘The last time I saw that clock was in Kleogh Castle, the home of the Blakes. It had been in their possession for centuries, and was made from what is supposed to be the oldest bog-oak in Ireland. Ah! the old lady left it you, did she? and you say she got it from Kelly’s in Grafton Street.
“ ‘Come! that explains everything. The Blakes—poor beggars—were sold up last year, and Kelly’s, I know, were represented at the sale.
“ ‘But now comes the extraordinary part of the affair. The grey figure our friend the vicar has just described to us tallies exactly with the phantasm that used to haunt Kleogh, and which the Blakes have always regarded in the light of a family ghost.
“ ‘Now it would appear that they are entirely wrong—that it is with the clock and not Kleogh this apparition is connected—a fact that is not at all surprising when we come to consider its origin and the vast antiquity of its frame.
“ ‘But let us examine it more carefully to-morrow.’
“We did so, and discovered that the frontal pillars on either side of the face of the clock consisted of two highly polished femur-bones which, although blackened through countless ages of immersion in the bog, and abnormally long (as is inevitably the case with Paleolithic man), were very unmistakably human.
*****
“I
