The Judge's House

by

Bram Stoker
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***

"When the time for his examination drew near Malcolm Malcolmson
made up his mind to go somewhere to read by himself. He feared the
attractions of the seaside, and also he feared completely rural
isolation, for of old he knew its charms, and so he determined to
find some unpretentious little town where there would be nothing
to distract him. He refrained from asking suggestions from any of
his friends, for he argued that each would recommend some place of
which he had knowledge, and where he had already acquaintances.
As Malcolmson wished to avoid friends he had no wish to encumber
himself with the attention or friends' friends, and so he determined
to look out for a place for himself. He packed a portmanteau with
some clothes and all the books he required, and then took ticket for
the first name on the local time-table which he did not know.

"When at the end of three hours' journey he alighted at Benchurch,

he felt satisfied that he had so far obliterated his tracks as to be
sure of having a peaceful opportunity of pursuing his studies. He
went straight to the one inn which the sleepy little place contained,
and put up for the night. Benchurch was a market town, and once in
three weeks was crowded to excess, but for the remainder of the
twenty-one days it was as attractive as a desert. Malcolmson looked
around the day after his arrival to try to find quarters more
isolated than even so quiet an inn as "The Good Traveller" afforded.
There was only one place which took his fancy, and it certainly
satisfied his wildest ideas regarding quiet; in fact, quiet was not
the proper word to apply to it--desolation was the only term
conveying any suitable idea of its isolation. It was an old rambling,
heavy-built house of the Jacobean style, with heavy gables and
windows, unusually small, and set higher than was customary in such
houses, and was surrounded with a high brick wall massively built.
Indeed, on examination, it looked more like a fortified house than
an ordinary dwelling. But all these things pleased Malcolmson.
"Here," he thought, "is the very spot I have been looking for, and
if I can only get opportunity of using it I shall be happy." His
joy was increased when he realised beyond doubt that it was not at
present inhabited.

From the post-office he got the name of the agent, who was rarely
surprised at the application to rent a part of the old house. Mr.
Carnford, the local lawyer and agent, was a genial old gentleman,
and frankly confessed his delight at anyone being willing to live
in the house.

"To tell you the truth," said he, "I should be only too happy,
on behalf of the owners, to let anyone have the house rent free
for a term of years if only to accustom the people here to see
it inhabited. It has been so long empty that some kind of absurd
prejudice has grown up about it, and this can be best put down by
its occupation--if only," he added with a sly glance at Malcomson,
"by a scholar like yourself, who wants its quiet for a time."

"Malcolmson thought it needless to ask the agent about the "absurd

prejudice"; he knew he would get more information, if he should
require it, on that subject from other quarters. He paid his three
months' rent, got a receipt, and the name of an old woman who would
probably undertake to "do" for him, and came away with the keys in
his pocket. He then went to the landlady of the inn, who was a
cheerful and most kindly person, and asked her advice as to such
stores and provisions as he would be likely to require. She threw
up her hands in amazement when he told her where he was going to
settle himself.

"Not in the Judge's House!" she said, and grew pale as she spoke.
He explained the locality of the house, saying that he did not know
its name. When he had finished she answered:

"Aye, sure enough--sure enough the very place! It is the Judge's

House sure enough." He asked her to tell him about the place, why
so called, and what there was against it. She told him that it was
so called locally because it had been many years before--how long
she could not say, as she was herself from another part of the
country, but she thought it must have been a hundred years or
more--the abode of a judge who was held in great terror on account
of his harsh sentences and his hostility to prisoners at Assizes.
As to what there was against the house itself she could not tell.
She had often asked, but no one could inform her; but there was a
general feeling that there was something, and for her own part she
would not take all the money in Drinkwater's Bank and stay in the
house an hour by herself. Then she apologised to Malcolmson for her
disturbing talk.

"It is too bad of me, sir, and you--and a young gentleman, too--if
you will pardon me saying it, going to live there all alone. If you
were my boy--and you'll excuse me for saying it--you wouldn't sleep
there a night, not if I had to go there myself and pull the big alarm
bell that's on the root!" The good creature was so manifestly in
earnest, and was so kindly in her intentions, that Malcolmson,
although amused, was touched. He told her kindly how much he
appreciated her interest in him, and added:

"But, my dear Mrs. Witham, indeed you need not be concerned about
me! A man who is reading for the Mathematical Tripos has too much to
think of to be disturbed by any of these mysterious 'somethings,'
and his work is of too exact and prosaic a kind to allow of his
having any corner in his mind for mysteries of any kind. Harmonical
Progression, Permutations and Combinations, and Elliptic Functions
have sufficient mysteries for me!" Mrs. Witham kindly undertook to
see after his commissions, and he went himself to look for the old
woman who had been recommended to him. When he returned to the
Judge's House with her, after an interval of a couple of hours, he
found Mrs. Witham herself waiting with several men and boys carrying
parcels, and an upholsterer's man with a bed in a cart, for she said,
though tables and chairs might be all very well, a bed that hadn't
been aired for mayhap fifty years was not proper for young bones to
lie on. She was evidently curious to see the inside of the house; and
though manifestly so afraid of the 'somethings' that at the slightest
sound she clutched on to Malcolmson, whom she never left for a
moment, went over the whole place.

After his examination of the house, Malcolmson decided to take

up his abode in the great dining-room, which was big enough to serve
for all his requirements; and Mrs. Witham, with the aid of the
charwoman, Mrs. Dempster, proceeded to arrange matters. When the
hampers were brought in and unpacked, Malcolmson saw that with
much kind forethought she had sent from her own kitchen sufficient
provisions to last for a few days. Before going she expressed all
sorts of kind wishes; and at the door turned and said:

"And perhaps, sir, as the room is big and draughty it might be well
to have one of those big screens put round your bed at night--though,
truth to tell, I would die myself if I were to be so shut in with all
kinds of--of 'things,' that put their heads round the sides, or over
the top, and look on me!" The image which she had called up was too
much for her nerves, and she fled incontinently.
 Mrs. Dempster sniffed in a superior manner as the landlady
disappeared, and remarked that for her own part she wasn't afraid
of all the bogies in the kingdom.

"I'll tell you what it is, sir," she said; "bogies is all kinds
and sorts of things--except bogies! Rats and mice, and beetles; and
creaky doors, and loose slates, and broken panes, and stiff drawer
handles, that stay out when you pull them and then fall down in
the middle of the night. Look at the wainscot of the room! It is
old--hundreds of years old! Do you think there's no rats and beetles
there! And do you imagine, sir, that you won't see none of them! Rats
is bogies, I tell you, and bogies is rats; and don't you get to think
anything else!"

"Mrs. Dempster," said Malcolmson gravely, making her a polite bow,

"you know more than a Senior Wrangler! And let me say, that, as a
mark of esteem for your indubitable soundness of head and heart, I
shall, when I go, give you possession of this house, and let you stay
here by yourself for the last two months of my tenancy, for four
weeks will serve my purpose."

"Thank you kindly, sir!" she answered, "but I couldn't sleep away
from home a night. I am in Greenhow's Charity, and if I slept a night
away from my rooms I should lose all I have got to live on. The rules
is very strict; and there's too many watching for a vacancy for me to
run any risks in the matter. Only for that, sir, I'd gladly come here
and attend on you altogether during your stay."

"My good woman," said Malcolmson hastily, "I have come here on
purpose to obtain solitude; and believe me that I am grateful to the
late Greenhow for having so organised his admirable charity--whatever
it is--that I am perforce denied the opportunity of suffering from
such a form of temptation! Saint Anthony himself could not be more
rigid on the point!"

The old woman laughed harshly. "Ah, you young gentlemen," she said,
"you don't fear for naught; and belike you'll get all the solitude
you want here." She set to work with her cleaning; and by nightfall,
when Malcolmson returned from his walk--he always had one of his
books to study as he walked--he found the room swept and tidied, a
fire burning in the old hearth, the lamp lit, and the table spread
for supper with Mrs. Witham's excellent fare. "This is comfort,
indeed," he said, as he rubbed his hands.

When he had finished his supper, and lifted the tray to the other
end of the great oak dining-table, he got out his books again, put
fresh wood on the fire, trimmed his lamp, and set himself down to a
spell of real hard work. He went on without pause till about eleven
o'clock, when he knocked off for a bit to fix his fire and lamp, and
to make himself a cup of tea. He had always been a tea-drinker, and
during his college life had sat late at work and had taken tea late.
The rest was a great luxury to him, and he enjoyed it with a sense of
delicious, voluptuous ease. The renewed fire leaped and sparkled, and
threw quaint shadows through the great old room; and as he sipped his
hot tea he revelled in the sense of isolation from his kind. Then it
was that he began to notice for the first time what a noise the rats
were making.

"Surely," he thought, "they cannot have been at it all the time I

was reading. Had they been. I must have noticed it!" Presently, when
the noise increased, he satisfied himself that it was really new.
It was evident that at first the rats had been frightened at the
presence of a stranger, and the light of fire and lamp; but that as
the time went on they had grown bolder and were now disporting
themselves as was their wont.

How busy they were! and hark to the strange noises! Up and down
behind the old wainscot, over the ceiling and under the floor they
raced, and gnawed, and scratched! Malcolmson smiled to himself as he
recalled to mind the saying of Mrs. Dempster, "Bogies is rats, and
rats is bogies!" The tea began to have its effect of intellectual
and nervous stimulus, he saw with joy another long spell of work to
be done before the night was past, and in the sense of security which
it gave him, he allowed himself the luxury of a good look round the
room. He took his lamp in one hand, and went all around, wondering
that so quaint and beautiful an old house had been so long neglected.
The carving of the oak on the panels of the wainscot was fine, and on
and round the doors and windows it was beautiful and of rare merit.
There were some old pictures on the walls, but they were coated so
thick with dust and dirt that he could not distinguish any detail of
them, though he held his lamp as high as he could over his head. Here
and there as he went round he saw some crack or hole blocked for a
moment by the face of a rat with its bright eyes glittering in the
light, but in an instant it was gone, and a squeak and a scamper
followed.

The thing that most struck him, however, was the rope of the
great alarm bell on the roof, which hung down in a corner of the
room on the right-hand side of the fireplace. He pulled up close
to the hearth a great high-backed carved oak chair, and sat down
to his last cup of tea. When this was done he made up the fire, and
went back to his work, sitting at the corner of the table, having
the fire to his left. For a while the rats disturbed him somewhat
with their perpetual scampering, but he got accustomed to the noise
as one does to the ticking of a clock or to the roar of moving
water; and he became so immersed in his work that everything in
the world, except the problem which he was trying to solve, passed
away from him.

He suddenly looked up, his problem was still unsolved, and there
was in the air that sense of the hour before the dawn, which is so
dread to doubtful life. The noise of the rats had ceased. Indeed it
seemed to him that it must have ceased but lately and that it was the
sudden cessation which had disturbed him. The fire had fallen low,
but still it threw out a deep red glow. As he looked he started in
spite of his sang froid.

There on the great high-backed carved oak chair by the right side
of the fireplace sat an enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with
baleful eyes. He made a motion to it as though to hunt it away, but
it did not stir. Then he made the motion of throwing something. Still
it did not stir, but showed its great white teeth angrily, and its
cruel eyes shone in the lamplight with an added vindictiveness.

Malcolmson felt amazed, and seizing the poker from the hearth ran
at it to kill it. Before, however, he could strike it, the rat, with
a squeak that sounded like the concentration of hate, jumped upon the
floor, and, running up the rope of the alarm bell, disappeared in the
darkness beyond the range of the green-shaded lamp. Instantly,
strange to say, the noisy scampering of the rats in the wainscot
began again.

By this time Malcolmson's mind was quite off the problem; and as a
shrill cock-crow outside told him of the approach of morning, he went
to bed and to sleep.

He slept so sound that he was not even waked by Mrs. Dempster

coming in to make up his room. It was only when she had tidied up
the place and got his breakfast ready and tapped on the screen which
closed in his bed that he woke. He was a little tired still after his
night's hard work, but a strong cup of tea soon freshened him up,
and, taking his book, he went out for his morning walk, bringing with
him a few sandwiches lest he should not care to return till dinner
time. He found a quiet walk between high elms some way outside the
town, and here he spent the greater part of the day studying his
Laplace. On his return he looked in to see Mrs. Witham and to
thank her for her kindness. When she saw him coming through the
diamond-paned bay-window of her sanctum she came out to meet him
and asked him in. She looked at him searchingly and shook her head
as she said:

"You must not overdo it, sir. You are paler this morning than you
should be. Too late hours and too hard work on the brain isn't good
for any man! But tell me, sir, how did you pass the night? Well, I
hope? But, my heart! sir, I was glad when Mrs. Dempster told me this
morning that you were all right and sleeping sound when she went in."

"Oh, I was all right," he answered, smiling, "the 'somethings'

didn't worry me, as yet. Only the rats; and they had a circus, I tell
you, all over the place. There was one wicked looking old devil that
sat up on my own chair by the fire, and wouldn't go till I took the
poker to him, and then he ran up the rope of the alarm bell and got
to somewhere up the wall or the ceiling--I couldn't see where, it was
so dark."

"Mercy on us," said Mrs. Witham, "an old devil, and sitting on a
chair by the fireside! Take care, sir! take care! There's many a true
word spoken in jest."

"How do you mean? 'Pon my word I don't understand."

"An old devil! The old devil, perhaps. There! sir, you needn't
laugh," for Malcolmson had broken into a hearty peal. "You young
folks thinks it easy to laugh at things that makes older ones
shudder. Never mind, sir! never mind! Please God, you'll laugh all
the time. It's what I wish you myself!" and the good lady beamed all
over in sympathy with his enjoyment, her fears gone for a moment.

"Oh, forgive me!" said Malcolmson presently. "Don't think me rude;

but the idea was too much for me--that the old devil himself was on
the chair last night!" And at the thought he laughed again. Then he
went home to dinner.

This evening the scampering of the rats began earlier; indeed it

had been going on before his arrival, and only ceased whilst his
presence by its freshness disturbed them. After dinner he sat by the
fire for a while and had a smoke; and then, having cleared his table,
began to work as before. To-night the rats disturbed him more than
they had done on the previous night. How they scampered up and down
and under and over! How they squeaked, and scratched, and gnawed! How
they, getting bolder by degrees, came to the mouths of their holes
and to the chinks and cracks and crannies in the wainscoting till
their eyes shone like tiny lamps as the firelight rose and fell. But
to him, now doubtless accustomed to them, their eyes were not wicked;
only their playfulness touched him. Sometimes the boldest of them
made sallies out on the floor or along the mouldings of the wainscot.
Now and again as they disturbed him Malcolmson made a sound to
frighten them, smiting the table with his hand or giving a fierce
"Hsh, hsh," so that they fled straightway to their holes.

And so the early part of the night wore on; and despite the noise
Malcolmson got more and more immersed in his work.

All at once he stopped, as on the previous night, being overcome by

a sudden sense of silence. There was not the faintest sound of gnaw,
or scratch, or squeak. The silence was as of the grave. He remembered
the odd occurrence of the previous night, and instinctively he looked
at the chair standing close by the fireside. And then a very odd
sensation thrilled through him.

There, on the great old high-backed carved oak chair beside the
fireplace sat the same enormous rat, steadily glaring at him with
baleful eyes.

Instinctively he took the nearest thing to his hand, a book of

logarithms, and flung it at it. The book was badly aimed and the rat
did not stir, so again the poker performance of the previous night
was repeated; and again the rat, being closely pursued, fled up the
rope of the alarm bell. Strangely too, the departure of this rat was
instantly followed by the renewal of the noise made by the general
rat community. On this occasion, as on the previous one, Malcolmson
could not see at what part of the room the rat disappeared, for the
green shade of his lamp left the upper part of the room in darkness,
and the fire had burned low.

On looking at his watch he found it was close on midnight; and, not

sorry for the divertissement, he made up his fire and made himself
his nightly pot of tea. He had got through a good spell of work, and
thought himself entitled to a cigarette; and so he sat on the great
carved oak chair before the fire and enjoyed it. Whilst smoking he
began to think that he would like to know where the rat disappeared
to, for he had certain ideas for the morrow not entirely disconnected
with a rat-trap. Accordingly he lit another lamp and placed it so
that it would shine well into the right-hand corner of the wall by
the fireplace. Then he got all the books he had with him, and placed
them handy to throw at the vermin. Finally he lifted the rope of the
alarm bell and placed the end of it on the table, fixing the extreme
end under the lamp. As he handled it he could not help noticing how
pliable it was, especially for so strong a rope, and one not in use.
"You could hang a man with it," he thought to himself. When his
preparations were made he looked around, and said complacently:

"There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you

this time!" He began his work again, and though as before somewhat
disturbed at first by the noise of the rats, soon lost himself in his
propositions and problems.

Again he was called to his immediate surroundings suddenly. This

time it might not have been the sudden silence only which took his
attention; there was a slight movement of the rope, and the lamp
moved. Without stirring, he looked to see if his pile of books was
within range, and then cast his eye along the rope. As he looked he
saw the great rat drop from the rope on the oak armchair and sit
there glaring at him. He raised a book in his right hand, and taking
careful aim, flung it at the rat. The latter, with a quick movement,
sprang aside and dodged the missile. He then took another book, and
a third, and flung them one after another at the rat, but each time
unsuccessfully. At last, as he stood with a book poised in his hand
to throw, the rat squeaked and seemed afraid. This made Malcolmson
more than ever eager to strike, and the book flew and struck the rat
a resounding blow. It gave a terrified squeak, and turning on its
pursuer a look of terrible malevolence, ran up the chair-back and
made a great jump to the rope of the alarm bell and ran up it like
lightning. The lamp rocked under the sudden strain, but it was a
heavy one and did not topple over. Malcolmson kept his eyes on the
rat, and saw it by the light of the second lamp leap to a moulding
of the wainscot and disappear through a hole in one of the great
pictures which hung on the wall, obscured and invisible through its
coating of dirt and dust.

"I shall look up my friend's habitation in the morning," said the

student, as he went over to collect his books. "The third picture
from the fireplace; I shall not forget." He picked up the books one
by one, commenting on them as he lifted them. "Conic Sections he
does not mind, nor Cycloidal Oscillations, nor the Principia, nor
Quaternions, nor Thermodynamics. Now for the book that fetched him!"
Malcolmson took it up and looked at it. As he did so he started, and
a sudden pallor overspread his face. He looked round uneasily and
shivered slightly, as he murmured to himself:

"The Bible my mother gave me! What an odd coincidence." He sat down
to work again, and the rats in the wainscot renewed their gambols.
They did not disturb him, however; somehow their presence gave him a
sense of companionship. But he could not attend to his work, and
after striving to master the subject on which he was engaged gave it
up in despair, and went to bed as the first streak of dawn stole in
through the eastern window.

He slept heavily but uneasily, and dreamed much; and when Mrs.
Dempster woke him late in the morning he seemed ill at ease, and for
a few minutes did not seem to realise exactly where he was. His first
request rather surprised the servant.

"Mrs. Dempster, when I am out to-day I wish you would get the
steps and dust or wash those pictures--specially that one the third
from the fireplace--I want to see what they are." Late in the
afternoon Malcolmson worked at his books in the shaded walk, and the
cheerfulness of the previous day came back to him as the day wore on,
and he found that his reading was progressing well. He had worked out
to a satisfactory conclusion all the problems which had as yet
baffled him, and it was in a state of jubilation that he paid a visit
to Mrs. Witham at "The Good Traveller." He found a stranger in the
cosy sitting-room with the landlady, who was introduced to him as Dr.
Thornhill. She was not quite at ease, and this, combined with the
Doctor's plunging at once into a series of questions, made Malcolmson
come to the conclusion that his presence was not an accident, so
without preliminary he said:

"Dr. Thornhill, I shall with pleasure answer you any question you
may choose to ask me if you will answer me one question first."

The Doctor seemed surprised, but he smiled and answered at once.

"Done! What is it?"

"Did Mrs. Witham ask you to come here and see me and advise me?"

Dr. Thornhill for a moment was taken aback, and Mrs. Witham got
fiery red and turned away; but the doctor was a frank and ready man,
and he answered at once and openly:

"She did: but she didn't intend you to know it. I suppose it was
my clumsy haste that made you suspect. She told me that she did not
like the idea of your being in that house all by yourself, and that
she thought you took too much strong tea. In fact, she wants me to
advise you if possible to give up the tea and the very late hours.
I was a keen student in my time, so I suppose I may take the liberty
of a college man, and without offence, advise you not quite as a
stranger."

Malcolmson with a bright smile held out his hand. "Shake! as they
say in America," he said. "I must thank you for your kindness and
Mrs. Witham too, and your kindness deserves a return on my part. I
promise to take no more strong tea--no tea at all till you let
me--and I shall go to bed to-night at one o'clock at latest. Will
that do?"

"Capital," said the Doctor. "Now tell us all that you noticed
in the old house," and so Malcolmson then and there told in
minute detail all that had happened in the last two nights. He
was interrupted every now and then by some exclamation from Mrs.
Witham, till finally when he told of the episode of the Bible the
landlady's pent-up emotions found vent in a shriek; and it was
not till a stiff glass of brandy and water had been administered
that she grew composed again. Dr. Thornhill listened with a face
of growing gravity, and when the narrative was complete and Mrs.
Witham had been restored he asked:

"The rat always went up the rope of the alarm bell?"

"Always."

"I suppose you know," said the Doctor after a pause, "what the
rope is?"

"No!"

"It is," said the Doctor slowly, "the very rope which the hangman
used for all the victims of the Judge's judicial rancour!" Here he
was interrupted by another scream from Mrs. Witham, and steps had to
be taken for her recovery. Malcolmson having looked at his watch, and
found that it was close to his dinner hour, had gone home before her
complete recovery.

When Mrs. Witham was herself again she almost assailed the Doctor
with angry questions as to what he meant by putting such horrible
ideas into the poor young man's mind. "He has quite enough there
already to upset him," she added. Dr. Thornhill replied:

"My dear madam, I had a distinct purpose in it! I wanted to draw

his attention to the bell rope, and to fix it there. It may be that
he is in a highly overwrought state, and has been studying too much,
although I am bound to say that he seems as sound and healthy a young
man, mentally and bodily, as ever I saw--but then the rats--and that
suggestion of the devil." The doctor shook his head and went on. "I
would have offered to go and stay the first night with him but that I
felt sure it would have been a cause of offence. He may get in the
night some strange fright or hallucination; and if he does I want him
to pull that rope. All alone as he is it will give us warning, and we
may reach him in time to be of service. I shall be sitting up pretty
late to-night and shall keep my ears open. Do not be alarmed if
Benchurch gets a surprise before morning."

"Oh, Doctor, what do you mean? What do you mean?"

"I mean this; that possibly--nay, more probably--we shall hear the
great alarm bell from the Judge's House to-night," and the Doctor
made about as effective an exit as could be thought of.

When Malcolmson arrived home he found that it was a little after his
usual time, and Mrs. Dempster had gone away--the rules of Greenhow's
Charity were not to be neglected. He was glad to see that the place
was bright and tidy with a cheerful fire and a well-trimmed lamp. The
evening was colder than might have been expected in April, and a
heavy wind was blowing with such rapidly-increasing strength that
there was every promise of a storm during the night. For a few
minutes after his entrance the noise of the rats ceased; but so soon
as they became accustomed to his presence they began again. He was
glad to hear them, for he felt once more the feeling of companionship
in their noise, and his mind ran back to the strange fact that they
only ceased to manifest themselves when that other--the great rat
with the baleful eyes--came upon the scene. The reading-lamp only was
lit and its green shade kept the ceiling and the upper part of the
room in darkness, so that the cheerful light from the hearth
spreading over the floor and shining on the white cloth laid over the
end of the table was warm and cheery. Malcolmson sat down to his
dinner with a good appetite and a buoyant spirit. After his dinner
and a cigarette he sat steadily down to work, determined not to let
anything disturb him, for he remembered his promise to the doctor,
and made up his mind to make the best of the time at his disposal.

For an hour or so he worked all right, and then his thoughts began
to wander from his books. The actual circumstances around him, the
calls on his physical attention, and his nervous susceptibility were
not to be denied. By this time the wind had become a gale, and the
gale a storm. The old house, solid though it was, seemed to shake to
its foundations, and the storm roared and raged through its many
chimneys and its queer old gables, producing strange, unearthly
sounds in the empty rooms and corridors. Even the great alarm bell on
the roof must have felt the force of the wind, for the rope rose and
fell slightly, as though the bell were moved a little from time to
time, and the limber rope fell on the oak floor with a hard and
hollow sound.
 As Malcolmson listened to it he bethought himself of the doctor's
words, "It is the rope which the hangman used for the victims of the
Judge's judicial rancour," and he went over to the corner of the
fireplace and took it in his hand to look at it. There seemed a sort
of deadly interest in it, and as he stood there he lost himself for a
moment in speculation as to who these victims were, and the grim wish
of the Judge to have such a ghastly relic ever under his eyes. As he
stood there the swaying of the bell on the roof still lifted the rope
now and again; but presently there came a new sensation--a sort of
tremor in the rope, as though something was moving along it.

Looking up instinctively Malcolmson saw the great rat coming slowly

down towards him, glaring at him steadily. He dropped the rope and
started back with a muttered curse, and the rat turning ran up the
rope again and disappeared, and at the same instant Malcolmson became
conscious that the noise of the rats, which had ceased for a while,
began again.

All this set him thinking, and it occurred to him that he had not
investigated the lair of the rat or looked at the pictures, as he had
intended. He lit the other lamp without the shade, and, holding it
up, went and stood opposite the third picture from the fireplace on
the right-hand side where he had seen the rat disappear on the
previous night.

At the first glance he started back so suddenly that he almost

dropped the lamp, and a deadly pallor overspread his face. His knees
shook, and heavy drops of sweat came on his forehead, and he trembled
like an aspen. But he was young and plucky, and pulled himself
together, and after the pause of a few seconds stepped forward again,
raised the lamp, and examined the picture which had been dusted and
washed, and now stood out clearly.

It was of a judge dressed in his robes of scarlet and ermine. His

face was strong and merciless, evil, crafty, and vindictive, with a
sensual mouth, hooked nose of ruddy colour, and shaped like the beak
of a bird of prey. The rest of the face was of a cadaverous colour.
The eyes were of peculiar brilliance and with a terribly malignant
expression. As he looked at them, Malcolmson grew cold, for he saw
there the very counterpart of the eyes of the great rat. The lamp
almost fell from his hand, he saw the rat with its baleful eyes
peering out through the hole in the corner of the picture, and noted
the sudden cessation of the noise of the other rats. However, he
pulled himself together, and went on with his examination of the
picture. The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carved oak
chair, on the right-hand side of a great stone fireplace where, in
the corner, a rope hung down from the ceiling, its end lying coiled
on the floor. With a feeling of something like horror, Malcolmson
recognised the scene of the room as it stood, and gazed around him in
an awe-struck manner as though he expected to find some strange
presence behind him. Then he looked over to the corner of the
fireplace--and with a loud cry he let the lamp fall from his hand.

There, in the Judge's arm-chair, with the rope hanging behind, sat
the rat with the Judge's baleful eyes, now intensified and with a
fiendish leer. Save for the howling of the storm without there was
silence.

The fallen lamp recalled Malcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was

of metal, and so the oil was not spilt. However, the practical need
of attending to it settled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he
had turned it out, he wiped his brow and thought for a moment.

"This will not do," he said to himself. "If I go on like this I

shall become a crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the Doctor I
would not take tea. Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have
been getting into a queer state. Funny I did not notice it. I never
felt better in my life. However, it is all right now, and I shall
not be such a fool again."

Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and
resolutely sat down to his work.

It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book, disturbed by

the sudden stillness. Without, the wind howled and roared louder than
ever, and the rain drove in sheets against the windows, beating like
hail on the glass; but within there was no sound whatever save the
echo of the wind as it roared in the great chimney, and now and then
a hiss as a few raindrops found their way down the chimney in a lull
of the storm. The fire had fallen low and had ceased to flame, though
it threw out a red glow. Malcolmson listened attentively, and
presently heard a thin, squeaking noise, very faint. It came from the
corner of the room where the rope hung down, and he thought it was
the creaking of the rope on the floor as the swaying of the bell
raised and lowered it. Looking up, however, he saw in the dim light
the great rat clinging to the rope and gnawing it. The rope was
already nearly gnawed through--he could see the lighter colour where
the strands were laid bare. As he looked the job was completed, and
the severed end of the rope fell clattering on the oaken floor,
whilst for an instant the great rat remained like a knob or tassel at
the end of the rope, which now began to sway to and fro. Malcolmson
felt for a moment another pang of terror as he thought that now the
possibility of calling the outer world to his assistance was cut off,
but an intense anger took its place, and seizing the book he was
reading he hurled it at the rat. The blow was well aimed, but before
the missile could reach it the rat dropped off and struck the floor
with a soft thud. Malcolmson instantly rushed over towards it, but it
darted away and disappeared in the darkness of the shadows of the
room. Malcolmson felt that his work was over for the night, and
determined then and there to vary the monotony of the proceedings by
a hunt for the rat, and took off the green shade of the lamp so as to
insure a wider spreading light. As he did so the gloom of the upper
part of the room was relieved, and in the new flood of light, great
by comparison with the previous darkness, the pictures on the wall
stood out boldly. From where he stood, Malcolmson saw right opposite
to him the third picture on the wall from the right of the fireplace.
He rubbed his eyes in surprise, and then a great fear began to come
upon him.

In the centre of the picture was a great irregular patch of

brown canvas, as fresh as when it was stretched on the frame. The
background was as before, with chair and chimney-corner and rope,
but the figure of the Judge had disappeared.

Malcolmson, almost in a chill of horror, turned slowly round,

and then he began to shake and tremble like a man in a palsy. His
strength seemed to have left him, and he was incapable of action or
movement, hardly even of thought. He could only see and hear.

There, on the great high-backed carved oak chair sat the Judge
in his robes of scarlet and ermine, with his baleful eyes glaring
vindictively, and a smile of triumph on the resolute, cruel mouth,
as he lifted with his hands a black cap. Malcolmson felt as if the
blood was running from his heart, as one does in moments of prolonged
suspense. There was a singing in his ears. Without, he could hear the
roar and howl of the tempest, and through it, swept on the storm,
came the striking of midnight by the great chimes in the market
place. He stood for a space of time that seemed to him endless,
still as a statue and with wide-open, horror-struck eyes, breathless.
As the clock struck, so the smile of triumph on the Judge's face
intensified, and at the last stroke of midnight he placed the black
cap on his head.

Slowly and deliberately the Judge rose from his chair and picked
up the piece of the rope of the alarm bell which lay on the floor,
drew it through his hands as if he enjoyed its touch, and then
deliberately began to knot one end of it, fashioning it into a noose.
This he tightened and tested with his foot, pulling hard at it till
he was satisfied and then making a running noose of it, which he held
in his hand. Then he began to move along the table on the opposite
side to Malcolmson, keeping his eyes on him until he had passed him,
when with a quick movement he stood in front of the door. Malcolmson
then began to feel that he was trapped, and tried to think of what he
should do. There was some fascination in the Judge's eyes, which he
never took off him, and he had, perforce, to look. He saw the Judge
approach--still keeping between him and the door--and raise the noose
and throw it towards him as if to entangle him. With a great effort
he made a quick movement to one side, and saw the rope fall beside
him, and heard it strike the oaken floor. Again the Judge raised the
noose and tried to ensnare him, ever keeping his baleful eyes fixed
on him, and each time by a mighty effort the student just managed to
evade it. So this went on for many times, the Judge seeming never
discouraged nor discomposed at failure, but playing as a cat does
with a mouse. At last in despair, which had reached its climax,
Malcolmson cast a quick glance round him. The lamp seemed to have
blazed up, and there was a fairly good light in the room. At the many
rat-holes and in the chinks and crannies of the wainscot he saw the
rats' eyes; and this aspect, that was purely physical, gave him a
gleam of comfort. He looked around and saw that the rope of the great
alarm bell was laden with rats. Every inch of it was covered with
them, and more and more were pouring through the small circular hole
in the ceiling whence it emerged, so that with their weight the bell
was beginning to sway.

Hark! it had swayed till the clapper had touched the bell. The
sound was but a tiny one, but the bell was only beginning to sway,
and it would increase.

At the sound the Judge, who had been keeping his eyes fixed on
Malcolmson, looked up, and a scowl of diabolical anger overspread his
face. His eyes fairly glowed like hot coals, and he stamped his foot
with a sound that seemed to make the house shake. A dreadful peal of
thunder broke overhead as he raised the rope again, whilst the rats
kept running up and down the rope as though working against time.
This time, instead of throwing it, he drew close to his victim, and
held open the noose as he approached. As he came closer there seemed
something paralysing in his very presence, and Malcolmson stood rigid
as a corpse. He felt the Judge's icy fingers touch his throat as he
adjusted the rope. The noose tightened--tightened. Then the Judge,
taking the rigid form of the student in his arms, carried him over
and placed him standing in the oak chair, and stepping up beside him,
put his hand up and caught the end of the swaying rope of the alarm
bell. As he raised his hand the rats fled squeaking, and disappeared
through the hole in the ceiling. Taking the end of the noose which
was round Malcolmson's neck he tied it to the hanging bell-rope, and
then descending pulled away the chair.

***

When the alarm bell of the Judge's House began to sound a crowd
soon assembled. Lights and torches of various kinds appeared, and
soon a silent crowd was hurrying to the spot. They knocked loudly at
the door, but there was no reply. Then they burst in the door, and
poured into the great dining-room, the doctor at the head.

There at the end of the rope of the great alarm bell hung the body
of the student, and on the face of the Judge in the picture was a
malignant smile.