Short Fiction M. R. James (good book recommendations TXT) đ
- Author: M. R. James
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Mrs. Anstrutherâs morning reflections were not wholly placid. She was sure some roughs had got into the plantation during the night. âAnd another thing, George: the moment that Collins is about again, you must tell him to do something about the owls. I never heard anything like them, and Iâm positive one came and perched somewhere just outside our window. If it had come in I should have been out of my wits: it must have been a very large bird, from its voice. Didnât you hear it? No, of course not, you were sound asleep as usual. Still, I must say, George, you donât look as if your night had done you much good.â
âMy dear, I feel as if another of the same would turn me silly. You have no idea of the dreams I had. I couldnât speak of them when I woke up, and if this room wasnât so bright and sunny I shouldnât care to think of them even now.â
âWell, really, George, that isnât very common with you, I must say. You must haveâ âno, you only had what I had yesterdayâ âunless you had tea at that wretched club house: did you?â
âNo, no; nothing but a cup of tea and some bread and butter. I should really like to know how I came to put my dream togetherâ âas I suppose one does put oneâs dreams together from a lot of little things one has been seeing or reading. Look here, Mary, it was like thisâ âif I shanât be boring youâ ââ
âI wish to hear what it was, George. I will tell you when I have had enough.â
âAll right. I must tell you that it wasnât like other nightmares in one way, because I didnât really see anyone who spoke to me or touched me, and yet I was most fearfully impressed with the reality of it all. First I was sitting, no, moving about, in an old-fashioned sort of panelled room. I remember there was a fireplace and a lot of burnt papers in it, and I was in a great state of anxiety about something. There was someone elseâ âa servant, I suppose, because I remember saying to him, âHorses, as quick as you can,â and then waiting a bit: and next I heard several people coming upstairs and a noise like spurs on a boarded floor, and then the door opened and whatever it was that I was expecting happened.â
âYes, but what was that?â
âYou see, I couldnât tell: it was the sort of shock that upsets you in a dream. You either wake up or else everything goes black. That was what happened to me. Then I was in a big dark-walled room, panelled, I think, like the other, and a number of people, and I was evidentlyâ ââ
âStanding your trial, I suppose, George.â
âGoodness! yes, Mary, I was; but did you dream that too? How very odd!â
âNo, no; I didnât get enough sleep for that. Go on, George, and I will tell you afterwards.â
âYes; well, I was being tried, for my life, Iâve no doubt, from the state I was in. I had no one speaking for me, and somewhere there was a most fearful fellowâ âon the bench; I should have said, only that he seemed to be pitching into me most unfairly, and twisting everything I said, and asking most abominable questions.â
âWhat about?â
âWhy, dates when I was at particular places, and letters I was supposed to have written, and why I had destroyed some papers; and I recollect his laughing at answers I made in a way that quite daunted me. It doesnât sound much, but I can tell you, Mary, it was really appalling at the time. I am quite certain there was such a man once, and a most horrible villain he must have been. The things he saidâ ââ
âThank you, I have no wish to hear them. I can go to the links any day myself. How did it end?â
âOh, against me; he saw to that. I do wish, Mary, I could give you a notion of the strain that came after that, and seemed to me to last for days: waiting and waiting, and sometimes writing things I knew to be enormously important to me, and waiting for answers and none coming, and after that I came outâ ââ
âAh!â
âWhat makes you say that? Do you know what sort of thing I saw?â
âWas it a dark cold day, and snow in the streets, and a fire burning somewhere near you?â
âBy George, it was! You have had the same nightmare! Really not? Well, it is the oddest thing! Yes; Iâve no doubt it was an execution for high treason. I know I was laid on straw and jolted along most wretchedly, and then had to go up some steps, and someone was holding my arm, and I remember seeing a bit of a ladder and hearing a sound of a lot of people. I really donât think I could bear now to go into a crowd of people and hear the noise they make talking. However, mercifully, I didnât get to the real business. The dream passed off with a sort of thunder inside my head. But, Maryâ ââ
âI know what you are going to ask. I suppose this is an instance of a kind of thought-reading. Miss Wilkins called yesterday and told me of a dream her brother had as a child when they lived here, and something did no doubt make me think of that when I was awake last night listening to those horrible owls and those men talking and laughing in the shrubbery (by the way, I wish you would see if they have done any damage, and speak to the police about it); and so, I suppose, from my brain it must have got into yours while you
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