The Case: A terrifying bogle starts haunting a Scottish laird’s castle after the birth of the laird’s youngest daughter.
The Investigator: Thomas Carnacki, a British occult detective with a penchant for ghostbusting gadgets like his “electric pentacle”—quite “high-tech” for his era.
THE BEAST OF GLAMIS
William Meikle
I arrived in Cheyne Walk that Friday evening in response to a very welcome card from Carnacki. It had been several weeks since our last supper together, and I knew that Carnacki had not been at home for a fortnight at least. Such an absence told of an adventure and I admit to a certain degree of anticipation as he showed me in.
“So what is it this time, old chap?” I asked as he took my overcoat. “A haunt or just another gang of criminals bent on deception?”
He smiled.
“Oh, there was certainly a degree of deception involved,” he said. “But never fear . . . it is a fine tale that will be a whole evening in the telling. I hope you have a full pouch of tobacco at hand.”
It was not long before Carnacki, Arkwright, Jessop, Taylor, and I were all seated at Carnacki’s ample dining table. As ever he brooked no discussion as to why we had been asked to supper, and we all knew from long experience that he would not say a single word until the meal was over and he was good and ready.
At table we exchanged cordialities, and Arkwright entertained us with his tales of the goings on in the corridors of Westminster. Carnacki kept us waiting until we retired to the parlour and charged our glasses with some of his fine Scotch.
Jessop’s palate was the first to notice a new addition to Carnacki’s drinks cabinet.
“I say old man, isn’t this the Auld Fettercairn?”
Carnacki smiled.
“Indeed it is, old chap. And thirty-five years old at that, one of only twenty bottles in existence. It was part of my payment for my recent sojourn. If you will all be seated, I shall tell you the tale as to how it was procured.”
“It begins with a letter,” he started as we fell quiet. “It was delivered on the Monday three weeks past, delivered by hand from those same Westminster corridors that Arkwright has so successfully lampooned. It was a simple note, requesting my attendance for lunch with a certain Claude Bowes-Lyon. Of course I knew the chap, knew his family history, and his reputation. I wondered what a Scottish lord from one of the old families would want with me.
“I did not have to wait long to find out. Lunch was served on the terrace, a fine breast of duck and an even finer Chablis. The lord, although he looked to be in rude good health, took none of it. But he had the good manners to wait until the meal was over before getting to the reason I had been brought here.
“ ‘There are two things in this world I love above all others,’ he said by way of preamble. ‘My castle at Glamis, and my youngest daughter. To have both under threat at the same time is almost more than I can bear.’
“I lit a pipe and waited. I knew when a proud man needs to talk, and this was one of those occasions.
“ ‘I have heard the stories of course,’ he continued. ‘All of us who live in and around the estate have lived with them all our lives; about the beast in the hidden room or the card game being played with Auld Nick for the player’s souls. I put no credence in such matters. I have seen men dead . . . and they stay that way. The dead do not come back.
“ ‘At least that is what I have always believed, and I continued to believe it right up until the birth of my youngest, Lisabet. Our troubles started on the night she came into the world.’
“He must have seen my shock, and was quick to allay any fears I might have shown.
“ ‘Oh no. You misunderstand me. There is nothing wrong with Lisabet. A more even-tempered girl you will never find. No. The problems arose within the walls of the old castle itself. At first it was merely knockings in the night, doors opening and closing, that sort of thing. I tried to write it off as merely the old stone itself settling and aging. But soon the servants began to rebel, refusing to go to the second floor, and I had a mutiny on my hands when I tried to force the issue.
“ ‘We took to ignoring the second floor completely, and that was that for several years. But we came to notice that things got worse when Lisabet was around. Matters came to a head just last month. I woke to the child’s screams, and when I got to her room she was almost hysterical. It tooks us hours to calm her down. All she could tell us was that the bogle had tried to take her.
“ ‘I have brought the girl to London in the meantime, but I need your help, Carnacki. I understand you have experience of this kind of thing, and I will not be forced from my own home. I need you to find out what this dashed thing is . . . and rid my family of it once and for all.’ ”
Carnacki paused to re-light his pipe before continuing.
“I could not with all conscience refuse,” he said. “There was the fact that he was a lord, of course. But more interesting to me than that was the opportunity it gave me. I had a chance to get to the bottom of an age-old mystery, and by Jove, I meant to take it.
“I set off the next morning, taking the Flying Scotsman as far as Edinburgh then another train on to Dundee where I had telegraphed ahead to have a carriage waiting. I needed one, you see, as I had ensured that I took a great deal of equipment with me, not knowing what might be required at the other end. A further twenty miles of rough road later and I arrived at the castle itself. It sits in a beautiful position with a wide, open aspect but, although it was still only late afternoon, a chill seemed to emanate from the very walls.
“The feeling of oppression only grew stronger as I was shown inside. The lord, or laird as they knew him here, had given me a letter of introduction to show to his housekeeper. The woman seemed to have been built from the same stuff as the castle itself, and indeed gave off a similar chill. She perused the laird’s letter twice before she deigned to allow me over the threshold. Even then she was at pains to inform me that I would be spending my nights in the servant’s quarters, being clearly, in her eyes, a mere tradesman in the laird’s employ.
“I was so enthused at the mere prospect ahead of me that I did not put up an argument. She showed me to a back room that was little bigger than a closet, and contained no more than a camp bed, a sink, and a bedside cabinet.
“ ‘I shall make you some breakfast in the morning,’ she said. “But only the once. After that you can do for yourself.’
“Again I did no more than agree. So far she had only showed me an icy coldness, but I am afraid I shattered that bastion completely with my next, and last, question.
“ ‘Can you show me to the room please?’ I asked. “The child Lisabet’s room? I need to find the bogle.’
“At the merest mention of the word she went as white as a sheet. She made a quick movement with her right hand, warding off the evil eye.
“ ‘ ’Tis on the second floor,’ she said, already leaving the room. I could see she was trying hard not to appear to be hurrying. ‘You can find your own way there I am sure, a fine gentleman such as yourself.’