SHORT STORY PART 1

THE GHOST AT THE TRIAL

By: Charles Dickens

1.       Picadilly

My name is George Fotherly. I have an important job in a famous bank in London. I work in London and I live in London too. I live in a large apartment on the third floor of a large building. The building is in a famous street. The street is called Picadilly.

There are seven rooms in my apartment. Three of them are the front of the building – my sitting-room, my bedroom and my dressing-room. My clothes are in my dressing-room. I can look down into Picadilly through the windows of these three rooms.

The other four rooms are at the back of the building – the dining-room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the servant’s bedroom.

There is a narrow corridor between the rooms at the front of the apartment and the rooms at the back. 

Soon, I will tell you my story. But first, I must tell you about myself.

I am a lonely man. I am not married. My servant, John Derrick, and his wife live with me. They take care of me. I do not know many people. But I see many people. Often, I look out of the window of my sitting-room. There are always people in the street outside my apartment. Picadilly is a busy street. I often look down at the people in Picadilly.

One Tuesday morning, last year, I was in my sitting-room. It was sunny morning in early September. I was reading a newspaper. On the front page, there was some news about a horrible murder.

For ten minutes, I sat and I read about the murder. Then a very strange thing happened. I looked up. For a minute , I was in the different room. Where was I? I was not in my sitting-room. I was in a small dark room in an old house. I was in the victim’s bedroom! The murdered man was not there. But I saw his bed. And I saw the blood on his bed! I saw a knife on the bed! I closed my eyes. I was breathing fast. Then I opened  my eyes and I was in my sitting-room again.

‘What is happening to me?’ I asked myself. Quickly, I got up from my chair and I went to the window. I looked down in the street.

Picadilly was very busy that morning. Many people were walking in the street. Some People were talking to each other. Some people were looking into the shop windows. Three men came along the street together. They saw a friend on the other side of the street. The men did not stop walking, but they shouted ‘Good morning!’ to each other. Soon, they had gone.

Then suddenly, another strange thing happened. I saw two men walking very quickly along Picadilly. The first man was about one hundred feet in front of the other man.

I watched the two men for half a minute. They were always one hundred feet apart. The two men did not stop. They did not look at the shops. They did not look at the other people in the street.

‘The second man is following the first man,’ I said to myself, ‘Why is he doing that?’

The first man’s face was unhappy. Once, he looked behind him. He looked back at the second man walked faster too.

‘The first man is very frightened,’ I thought. ‘Why is he frightened?’

The second man’s face was pale. He stared ahead of him – looked straight in front of him.

‘Is the second man was walking in his sleep?’ I asked myself. ‘No! He isn’t asleep. It’s late in the morning!’

The two men were not looking at the other people in the street. They were walking straight ahead, very quickly. But they never touched the other people. And the other people in the street were not looking at the two men. Could do other people see these two strange men?

Soon, the first man was opposite my window. He looked up and he stared straight at me. His face was terrible! He stopped walking for a second. Then he walked on quickly.

‘Yes, that man is very frightened,’ I said to myself. ‘I will give him a name. He is the Frightened Man!’

A few moments later, the second man was opposite my window. He looked up at me too.

The man stopped walking for a few seconds. He stood still and he looked at me.

‘This man’s face is very pale,’ I said to myself. ‘It is the face of a dead man!

‘The first man was the Frightened Man,’ I thought. ‘This is the Pale Man. The Pale Man is saying, “Remember me! Help me!”’

Why did I think that? I do not know.

Then, the Pale Man started walking again. Soon, the two men had passed my window. They did not come back.

A moment later, John Derrick came into the room.

‘Your lunch is in the dining-room, sir,’ he said.

____

          Three days later, some policeman arrested a man. They arrested him for murder. They took the man to a police station. They accused him the murder of the man in West London. The accused man was a friend of the victim. I read about this in the newspaper.

          Soon, I forgot about the murder. But I did not forget those two men in the street. I did not forget their strange faces. I did not forget the unhappy face of the Frightened Man. And I did not forget the staring eyes of the pale Man.

Two months later, I saw both those man Again

To be continued,,,