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| The Haunted Bookshop | Christopher Morley |
The "Cromwell" Makes its Last Appearance |
Page 9 of 9 |
There was no answer. A beam of light gushed out from the passageway behind the shop, and picking his way over fallen litter he found Mrs. Mifflin standing dazed by the dining-room door. In the back of the house the lights were still burning. "For heaven's sake, have you a candle?" he said. "Where's Roger?" she cried piteously, and stumbled into the kitchen. With a candle Aubrey found Titania sitting on the floor, very faint, but unhurt. What he had thought was blood proved to be a pool of ink from a quart bottle that had stood over Roger's desk. He picked her up like a child and carried her into the kitchen. "Stay here and don't stir," he said. By this time a crowd was already gathering on the pavement. Someone came in with a lantern. Three policemen appeared at the door. "For God's sake," cried Aubrey, "get a light in here so we can see what's happened. Mifflin's buried in this mess somewhere. Someone ring for an ambulance." The whole front of the Haunted Bookshop was a wreck. In the pale glimmer of the lantern it was a disastrous sight. Helen groped her way down the shattered aisle. "Where was he?" she cried wildly. "Thanks to that set of Trollope," said a voice in the remains of the Fiction alcove, "I think I'm all right. Books make good shock-absorbers. Is any one hurt?" It was Roger, half stunned, but undamaged. He crawled out from under a case of shelves that had crumpled down upon him. |
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The Haunted Bookshop Christopher Morley |
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