Vintage Scary Stories for the Modern Ghost Volume 2

The Houseboat

By Richard Marsh

Chapter 1

"I am sure of it!"

Inglis laid down his knife and fork. He stared round and round the small apartment in a manner which was distinctly strange. My wife caught him up. She laid down her knife and fork.

" You're sure of what ?"

Inglis seemed disturbed. He appeared unwilling to give a direct answer.

"Perhaps, after all, it's only a coincidence."

But Violet insisted "What is a coincidence ?"

Inglis addressed himself to me.

"The fact is, Millen, directly I came on board I tought I had seen this boat before."

"But I thought you said that you had never heard of the Water Lily."

"Nor have I. The truth is that when I knew it, it wasn't the Water Lily."

"I don't understand."

"They must have changed the name. Unless I am very much mistaken this — this used to be the Sylph."

"The Sylph?"

"You don't mean to say that you have never heard of the Sylph?" Inglis asked this question in a tone of voice which was peculiar.

"My dear fellow, I'm not a riverain authority. I am not acquainted with every houseboat between Richmond and Oxford. It was only at your special recommendation that I took the Water Lily!"

"Excuse me, Millen, I advised a houseboat. I didn't specify the Water Lily!"

"But," asked my wife, "what was the matter with the Sylph that she should so
mysteriously have become the Water Lily?"

Inglis fenced with this question in a manner which seemed to suggest a state
of mental confusion.

"Of course, Millen, I know that that sort of thing would not have the slightest influence on you. It is only people of a very different sort who would allow it to have any effect on thenL Then, after all, I may be wrong. And, in any case, I don't see that it matters."

"Mr. Inglis, are you suggesting that the Sylph was haunted?"

"Haunted!" Inglis started "I never dropped a hint about its being haunted. So
far as I remember I never heard a word of anything of the kind."

Violet placed her knife and fork together on her plate. She folded her hands upon her lap.

"Mr. Inglis, there is a mystery. Will you this mystery unfold?"
"Didn't you really ever hear about the Sylph — two years ago?"

"Two years ago we were out of England."

"So you were. Perhaps that explains it. You understand, this mayn't be the Sylph. I may be wrong — though I don't think I am." Inglis glanced uncomfortably at the chair on which he was sitting. "Why, I believe this is the very chair on which I sat! I remember noticing what a queer shape it was."

It was rather an odd-shaped chair. For that matter, all the things on board were odd.

"Then have you been on board this boat before?"

"Yes." Inglis positively shuddered. "I was, once; if it is the Sylph, that is." He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. He leaned back in his chair. A curious look came into his face. "It is the Sylph, I'll swear to it It all comes back to me. What an extraordinary coincidence! One might almost think there was something supernatural in the thing."