"In Which Herbert Discovers a Haunted House and An Unfortunate Mishap Occurs" Part I

On a blustery afternoon in the English countryside, Mr. Herbert Railton felt in need of adventure. He had been enjoying a glass of tea in his study, when it dawned upon him that he was turning thirty-seven on Saturday. He didn't particularly feel like a thirty-seven year old. He was still quite active, he reasoned to himself. He enjoyed a good round of cricket when the mood struck. He still raced his horses on Sundays and organized fox hunting weekends with the boys from Skunk Hollow.

Herbert did not think he looked any older and certainly paid no acknowledgment to his fading hair colour. A quick glance in the mirror would say otherwise, but Herbert felt his grey hairs were nonexistent (unless friends brought it up at a dinner party, in which case he would state they gave him distinction).

But on this particular day (which happened to be a Tuesday), Herbert was feeling restless. He knew he wasn't ancient but he certainly wasn't getting any younger.
"It's time I make the most of my days. Carpe diem, tally-ho, as it were," he muttered with a bemused stare at his reflection. "I wonder what ol' Chauncy is getting up to."

Chauncy was Herbert's childhood friend and fox hunting partner. In their younger days, when Herbert had been chasing girls around the schoolyard, Chauncy was sneaking into the cook's quarters to steal sweets. Chauncy had grown into a bulbous man, with a deep laugh that could shake the furniture in your home. It was whispered among Chauncy's friends that he had once eaten an entire roasted boar at the age of fourteen, and that he could drink a full barrel of wine in a single meal.  In any case, Herbert thought quite highly of Chauncy and decided to give him a ring.

Herbert dialed. He heard the receiver being picked up on the other end. He began to say "Hello--", but a loud belch cut him off. "Mrphf, 'ello, who's there?" said Chauncy, his mouth full of truffles.

"Chauncy, my good man, it's Herbert. What say you put down the refreshments you're devouring and join me in some good ol' fashioned tomfoolery. I'm turning thirty-seven on Saturday and it's got me quite down in the doldrums. I believe some carousing could lift my spirits."

"Well, Herbert old chap, I'd quite like to join you, but I've got my hands full at the moment. Later this afternoon, I plan on taking the Duchess of Bristol out for a stroll around my gardens. I need to satisfy this raging hunger in my belly, so that I can satisfy the hunger in my loins, if you catch my drift."

"Chauncy, you are a foul creature indeed," laughed Herbert. "Very well, I will continue seeking new company for my adventure."

"Righteo, Herbert," said Chauncy, proceeding to belch again. "I am so looking forward to your birthday party. Make sure you have lots of those chocolate truffles, you know they're my favorite. Cheers!"

Herbert hung up the phone and proceeded to light his pipe. "Well, if Chauncy is out, perhaps I should try Gregory," he said aloud. "He's always up for a good row. I shall take a stroll over to his place and speak with him directly."

As Herbert closed the door upon his magnificent manor, a cold breeze swept up and caught him by surprise. "I say! This is quite the blustery afternoon I've stumbled upon." 

He shivered.

Herbert left for Gregory's, smoking his pipe in a futile attempt to warm his bones. He began walking though the countryside and the temperature continued to drop. It was not long before Herbert began shaking like the bare branches he was walking beneath.

"If the weather continues on like this, I might not survive to see my thirty-seventh birthday at all," he joked half-hearted.  Herbert was rather sensitive to the cold. "Blast and damnation! If only I had the motor car this weekend, I wouldn't have to travel by foot in this blasted weather." He stamped his feet, shivering. "If I'd known the weather would be this balmy, I would have insisted on keeping the auto myself instead of lending it to Martha. I do hope she is enjoying it," he muttered under his breath.

Martha was Herbert's eldest sister and a good deal older than he. In the story of Herbert's life, Martha was the antagonist. When they were youngsters, she baited Herbert with practical jokes and terrified him with tales of ghosts and goblins.

She would often frighten him with the story of Jeremy Soothsayer, a goblin that was capable of bewitching animals and even humans when he desired. She would tell him about the goblin's exploits up and down the English countryside, turning farm animals upon their masters and playing dark tricks on country folk. When Herbert's parents would punish him for misbehaving, Martha would tell him it was really Jeremy Soothsayer controlling their mother and father's minds and that Herbert should be wary of the goblin's wrath. Despite her rather horrific tales, however, Martha was not an evil sister, simply mischievous. It was from Martha that Herbert felt his adventurous streak had been culled at an early age. For though she teased him, she also inspired him.

In any case, Martha had the motor car and he did not. He had forgotten how far Gregory's home was from his own and he felt that he might not be up to the task of walking the entire distance. "Blast it all, I am acting like an old codger. I shall attempt to find a shorter route to Gregory's. Perhaps there is a shortcut." And then Herbert stopped dead in his tracks. He had been deep in thought and had not realized where his path had taken him. Herbert gazed ahead and gasped.

Away in the distance, Herbert could see a rather decrepit building rising from the gloom. It was the dreaded House of Mordecai. Herbert's sister had told him tales of this place, and it was these stories that chilled him far worse than any of the others. For it was said that the House of Mordecai was haunted by the living dead...