The Toll-House” Page #3

"The Toll-House" by W. W. Jacobs is a short story that blends humor and the supernatural, typical of the author's style. The narrative revolves around a tollhouse located by a remote road, where a mysterious and eerie presence seems to haunt the area. The story unfolds as travelers encounter bizarre occurrences, revealing both the comical and unsettling aspects of the tollhouse's legend. Jacobs' vivid storytelling and character-driven plot engage readers while exploring themes of superstition and the interplay of the ordinary and the extraordinary.

• Humour
• Short story

								


He stopped once or twice and stood with bent head listening. The unrest
outside seemed to increase; a loud creaking sounded from the stairs.

“Who is there?” he cried loudly.

The creaking ceased. He crossed to the door and flinging it open, strode
out into the corridor. As he walked his fears left him suddenly.

“Come on!” he cried with a low laugh. “All of you! All of you! Show your
faces—your infernal ugly faces! Don't skulk!”

He laughed again and walked on; and the heap in the fireplace put out
his head tortoise fashion and listened in horror to the retreating
footsteps. Not until they had become inaudible in the distance did the
listeners' features relax.

“Good Lord, Lester, we've driven him mad,” he said in a frightened
whisper. “We must go after him.”

There was no reply. Meagle sprung to his feet. “Do you hear?” he cried.
“Stop your fooling now; this is serious. White! Lester! Do you hear?”

He bent and surveyed them in angry bewilderment. “All right,” he said in
a trembling voice. “You won't frighten me, you know.”

He turned away and walked with exaggerated carelessness in the direction
of the door. He even went outside and peeped through the crack, but the
sleepers did not stir. He glanced into the blackness behind, and then
came hastily into the room again.

He stood for a few seconds regarding them. The stillness in the house
was horrible; he could not even hear them breathe. With a sudden
resolution he snatched the candle from the mantelpiece and held the
flame to White's finger. Then as he reeled back stupefied the footsteps
again became audible.

He stood with the candle in his shaking hand listening. He heard them
ascending the farther staircase, but they stopped suddenly as he went
to the door. He walked a little way along the passage, and they went
scurrying down the stairs and then at a jog-trot along the corridor
below. He went back to the main staircase, and they ceased again.

For a time he hung over the balusters, listening and trying to pierce
the blackness below; then slowly, step by step, he made his way
downstairs, and, holding the candle above his head, peered about him.

“Barnes!” he called. “Where are you?” Shaking with fright, he made his
way along the passage, and summoning up all his courage pushed open
doors and gazed fearfully into empty rooms. Then, quite suddenly, he
heard the footsteps in front of him.

He followed slowly for fear of extinguishing the candle, until they led
him at last into a vast bare kitchen with damp walls and a broken floor.
In front of him a door leading into an inside room had just closed. He
ran towards it and flung it open, and a cold air blew out the candle. He
stood aghast.

'Into a Vast Bare Kitchen With Damp Walls and A Broken Floor.'

“Barnes!” he cried again. “Don't be afraid! It is I—Meagle!”

There was no answer. He stood gazing into the darkness, and all the time
the idea of something close at hand watching was upon him. Then suddenly
the steps broke out overhead again.

He drew back hastily, and passing through the kitchen groped his way
along the narrow passages. He could now see better in the darkness, and
finding himself at last at the foot of the staircase began to ascend
it noiselessly. He reached the landing just in time to see a figure
disappear round the angle of a wall. Still careful to make no noise, he
followed the sound of the steps until they led him to the top floor, and
he cornered the chase at the end of a short passage.

“Barnes!” he whispered. “Barnes!”

Something stirred in the darkness. A small circular window at the end of
the passage just softened the blackness and revealed the dim outlines
of a motionless figure. Meagle, in place of advancing, stood almost as
still as a sudden horrible doubt took possession of him. With his eyes
fixed on the shape in front he fell back slowly and, as it advanced upon
him, burst into a terrible cry.

“Barnes! For God's sake! Is it you?”

The echoes of his voice left the air quivering, but the figure before
him paid no heed. For a moment he tried to brace his courage up to
endure its approach, then with a smothered cry he turned and fled.

The passages wound like a maze, and he threaded them blindly in a vain
search for the stairs. If he could get down and open the hall door——

He caught his breath in a sob; the steps had begun again. At a lumbering
trot they clattered up and down the bare passages, in and out, up and
down, as though in search of him. He stood appalled, and then as they
drew near entered a small room and stood behind the door as they rushed
by. He came out and ran swiftly and noiselessly in the other direction,
and in a moment the steps were after him. He found the long corridor
and raced along it at top speed. The stairs he knew were at the end, and
with the steps close behind he descended them in blind haste. The
steps gained on him, and he shrank to the side to let them pass, still
continuing his headlong flight. Then suddenly he seemed to slip off the
earth into space.

Lester awoke in the morning to find the sunshine streaming into the
room, and White sitting up and regarding with some perplexity a badly
blistered finger.

“Where are the others?” inquired Lester. “Gone, I suppose,” said White.
“We must have been asleep.”

Lester arose, and stretching his stiffened limbs, dusted his clothes
with his hands, and went out into the corridor. White followed. At the
noise of their approach a figure which had been lying asleep at the
other end sat up and revealed the face of Barnes. “Why, I've been
asleep,” he said in surprise. “I don't remember coming here. How did I
get here?”

“Nice place to come for a nap,” said Lester, severely, as he pointed to
the gap in the balusters. “Look there! Another yard and where would you
have been?”

He walked carelessly to the edge and looked over. In response to his
startled cry the others drew near, and all three stood gazing at the
dead man below.

'All Three Stood Gazing at the Dead Man Below.'
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