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Stories by Modern English Authors
CLASSIC MYSTERY AND DETECTIVE STORIES
EDITED BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE
Table of Contents
RUDYARD KIPLING （1865…）
My Own True Ghost Story
The Sending of Dana Da
In the House of Suddhoo
His Wedded Wife
A。 CONAN DOYLE （1859…）
A Case of Identity
A Scandal in Bohemia
The Red…Headed League
EGERTON CASTLE （1858…）
The Baron's Quarry
STANLEY J。 WEYMAN （1855…）
The Fowl in the Pot
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON （1850…94）
The Pavilion on the Links
WILKIE COLLINS （1824…89）
The Dream Woman
ANONYMOUS
The Lost Duchess
The Minor Canon
The Pipe
The Puzzle
The Great Valdez Sapphire
Modern English Mystery Stories
Rudyard Kipling
My Own True Ghost Story
As I came through the Desert thus it was
As I came through the Desert。
The City of Dreadful Night。
Somewhere in the Other World； where there are books and pictures
and plays and shop windows to look at； and thousands of men who
spend their lives in building up all four； lives a gentleman who
writes real stories about the real insides of people； and his name
is Mr。 Walter Besant。 But he will insist upon treating his ghosts
he has published half a workshopful of themwith levity。 He
makes his ghost…seers talk familiarly； and； in some cases； flirt
outrageously； with the phantoms。 You may treat anything； from a
Viceroy to a Vernacular Paper； with levity； but you must behave
reverently toward a ghost； and particularly an Indian one。
There are； in this land； ghosts who take the form of fat； cold；
pobby corpses； and hide in trees near the roadside till a traveler
passes。 Then they drop upon his neck and remain。 There are also
terrible ghosts of women who have died in child…bed。 These wander
along the pathways at dusk； or hide in the crops near a village；
and call seductively。 But to answer their call is death in this
world and the next。 Their feet are turned backward that all sober
men may recognize them。 There are ghosts of little children who
have been thrown into wells。 These haunt well curbs and the
fringes of jungles； and wail under the stars； or catch women by the
wrist and beg to be taken up and carried。 These and the corpse
ghosts； however； are only vernacular articles and do not attack
Sahibs。 No native ghost has yet been authentically reported to
have frightened an Englishman； but many English ghosts have scared
the life out of both white and black。
Nearly every other Station owns a ghost。 There are said to be two
at Simla； not counting the woman who blows the bellows at Syree
dak…bungalow on the Old Road； Mussoorie has a house haunted of a
very lively Thing； a White Lady is supposed to do night…watchman
round a house in Lahore； Dalhousie says that one of her houses
〃repeats〃 on autumn evenings all the incidents of a horrible horse…
and…precipice accident； Murree has a merry ghost； and； now that she
has been swept by cholera； will have room for a sorrowful one；
there are Officers' Quarters in Mian Mir whose doors open without
reason； and whose furniture is guaranteed to creak； not with the
heat of June but with the weight of Invisibles who come to lounge
in the chairs； Peshawur possesses houses that none will willingly
rent； and there is somethingnot feverwrong with a big bungalow
in Allahabad。 The older Provinces simply bristle with haunted
houses； and march phantom armies along their main thoroughfares。
Some of the dak…bungalows on the Grand Trunk Road have handy little
cemeteries in their compoundwitnesses to the 〃changes and chances
of this mortal life〃 in the days when men drove from Calcutta to
the Northwest。 These bungalows are objectionable places to put up
in。 They are generally very old； always dirty； while the khansamah
is as ancient as the bungalow。 He either chatters senilely； or
falls into the long trances of age。 In both moods he is useless。
If you get angry with him； he refers to some Sahib dead and buried
these thirty years； and says that when he was in that Sahib's
service not a khansamah in the Province could touch him。 Then he
jabbers and mows and trembles and fidgets among the dishes； and you
repent of your irritation。
In these dak…bungalows； ghosts are most likely to be found； and
when found； they should be made a note of。 Not long ago it was my
business to live in dak…bungalows。 I never inhabited the same
house for three nights running； and grew to be learned in the
breed。 I lived in Government…built ones with red brick walls and
rail ceilings； an inventory of the furniture posted in every room；
and an excited snake at the threshold to give welcome。 I lived in
〃converted〃 onesold houses officiating as dak…bungalowswhere
nothing was in its proper place and there wasn't even a fowl for
dinner。 I lived in second…hand palaces where the wind blew through
open…work marble tracery just as uncomfortably as through a broken
pane。 I lived in dak…bungalows where the last entry in the
visitors' book was fifteen months old； and where they slashed off
the curry…kid's head with a sword。 It was my good luck to meet all
sorts of men； from sober traveling missionaries and deserters
flying from British Regiments； to drunken loafers who threw whisky
bottles at all who passed； and my still greater good fortune just
to escape a maternity case。 Seeing that a fair proportion of the
tragedy of our lives out here acted itself in dak…bungalows； I
wondered that I had met no ghosts。 A ghost that would voluntarily
hang about a dak…bungalow would be mad of course； but so many men
have died mad in dak…bungalows that there must be a fair percentage
of lunatic ghosts。
In due time I found my ghost； or ghosts rather； for there were two
of them。 Up till that hour I had sympathized with Mr。 Besant's
method of handling them； as shown in 〃The Strange Case of Mr。
Lucraft and Other Stories。〃 I am now in the Opposition。
We will call the bungalow Katmal dak…bungalow。 But THAT was the
smallest part of the horror。 A man with a sensitive hide has no
right to sleep in dak…bungalows。 He should marry。 Katmal dak…
bungalow was old and rotten and unrepaired。 The floor was of worn
brick； the walls were filthy； and the windows were nearly black
with grime。 It stood on a bypath largely used by native Sub…Deputy
Assistants of all kinds； from Finance to Forests； but real Sahibs
were rare。 The khansamah； who was nearly bent double with old age；
said so。
When I arrived； there was a fitful； undecided rain on the face of
the land； accompanied by a restless wind； and every gust made a
noise like the rattling of dry bones in the stiff toddy palms
outside。 The khansamah completely lost his head on my arrival。 He
had served a Sahib once。 Did I know that Sahib？ He gave me the
name of a well…known man who has been buried for m