Elizabeth: Part XXV

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Ordinarily though Anton would not take the socially obligated manner of calling a mere woman a ``lady'', but having lived in this county for a while now, he had realised that many of the women that he had the pleasure of conversing with or interacting with had little doubt about their pedigree, that they were ladies in the truest sense of the word. It was not about the hint of nobility in them---blue-bloodedness was not something that the social construct of the county cared much for---but more of the way in which they carry themselves that set them apart from the mere difference in gender. They were, as some might call it, dainty yet strong, docile yet not servile, sweet yet not saccharine.

In short, they were true ladies by manner of their carriage.

The horse and carriage made its way along the main road and turned in to the gravel road that led to the patio of the manor in which Anton and the housekeeper were standing in anticipation. The driver masterfully commanded the beast to slow from its trot to a walk as he steered along the curving gravel road. The carriage followed along smoothly and as it slowed down under the patio to a standstill, Anton could finally make out the features of his dining guests.

Lady Crawford was the first person who seemed to catch the eye of Anton; she was, after all, the lady whom he had caught a glance of while the horse and carriage were still making its way towards the manor. She wore a pastel dress that glowed a light chrome colour under the flickering lights of the gas lamps, with gloves and hat on. Anton could not quite see her face just yet due to all the shadows of her wide-brimmed hat. Mr Crawford was a man of stern consternation, though his eyes held a spark that seemed to betray his wild nature despite being in the shadows themselves. He was dressed in a regular dinner jacket and matching hat and pants.

The driver nodded at the housekeeper who tapped Anton lightly on the arm.

Elizabeth: Part XXIV

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The Master and housekeeper arrived at the base of the grand stairs without much fan-fare and the two of them made their way to the main door that just a couple of hours ago Anton had first gone out for his solitary walk. Mr Higgins opened up the door and motioned for Anton to step right through, with which the latter did quickly and without much fuss, his dinner jacket rustling a little from his movements. The housekeeper quickly followed through and gently shut the door behind him.

The sun was quite advanced in its setting for the day, with its long red rays of remnant light casting finger-like shadows from the trees and tall structures within its path. The gas lamps along the main road outside of the manor had already been lit, no doubt by the county's official gas lamp lighter (there was such a post in the municipal office, much to Anton's amusement). From a distance, Anton could hear the regular clopping sound of a horse that was trotting along while pulling a light carriage that was still in common use in the county, a mode of transport that had been rendered obsolete in all parts of the country save this one. The reason of existence was due to the low amounts of damage such transport had on the rural-roads that were still in use in the county itself, something that a more modern-day motor vehicle would have trouble emulating.

The clopping sound grew louder and within a couple more minutes Anton could make out the shadow of the horse and carriage that was just within sight of the main road. The driver was seated between two lamps that hung on either front side of the carriage which acted like head lamps, with a riding crop held in one hand while the other held the reins. It was a light carriage---more like a buggy really---with an open top that could be hooded up should rain occur. Anton could just make out the shape of two occupants seated in the light carriage itself.

And one of them seemed to be that of a lady.

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Elizabeth: Part XXIII

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Six o'clock came as quickly as could be, but Anton was completely unaware of it till the housekeeper politely knocked on the door of the study when the latter went up to collect the former. Anton was startled out of his concentration of the piece of work by Tolstoy that he was reading by the knocking before realising where he was and giving a verbal consent to the housekeeper's entry.

``Master Anton, it is five minutes to six, and I have received word that the Crawfords are on their way to the manor. Will you be ready to come with me to the main door to welcome them to the manor itself as the master of the manor?''

Anton looked at the housekeeper quizzically as he reached for a bookmark to mark the page of the book that he was reading before closing it and setting it in the middle of the table in the study. Standing up and adjusting his attire a little, Anton gave a nod to the housekeeper who returned with a bow before turning around and walking out of the study, leading the way back to the main hall towards the main door as Anton followed behind.

The short walk from the study out to the atrium showed yet another view of the atrium where the grand stairs were. Instead of the muted colours that were only highlighted by the moon light through whatever windows in its path, the chandeliers and gas lamps around the atrium were lit to their fullest, no doubt by the housekeeper. Under the warm orange glow of all the flame lamps, the atrium exuded an elegant and cosy feel beyond that of luxury---there was a strong sense of familiarity about it as well, the kind of familiarity that was more akin to a home than a mere house. Anton was mildly amazed at the sight that was before him---the atrium in the way it was lit always amazed him, despite him having seen similar scenes before during the other dinner appointments that he had to keep up with in the manor. This time, however, he could sense an extra emotion that he had not felt before, something that was strongly in contrast with the woeful scene just the night before when he first laid eyes on Elizabeth.

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Elizabeth: Part XXII

(Story begins here.)

The late afternoon sun imparted a slightly different feel to the manor. The rays entered through the ample windows that overlook the grand stairs, giving it a warm orange glow that was rather soothing in nature. The air was still, but that was to be expected given that there were no specialised ventilation systems installed, yet at the same time, the stillness itself had not gotten to the point of it being stale. Anton was attributed it to the rather high ceiling of the manor---the ceiling was roughly two stories up at the grand hall---but he could not confirm if his theory was true. And there was still no reason for him to pursue that line of thought anyway. But the warmth of the light through the windows cast over the stairs---that was what drew him to the manor in the first place. He was given a quick tour of the grounds when the board of trustees invited him to be a master of the manor, and it was roughly at this time of the day when he first set foot into the house itself. He was struck by the subtle beauty of it all, and that made the idea of being the master of such a lovely place all the more enticing.

Of course, now that he knew that the previous masters of the manor had perished under mysterious circumstances with the housekeeper (and his father!) left largely intact, he started to second-guess if his choice was a wise one indeed. Anton gently pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he climbed up the stairs back to his room to prepare for the dinner appointment with the Crawfords. Given all that he had done so far, a little distraction from yet another group of neighbours that he had not met sounded like a splendid idea.

Roughly twenty minutes later, Anton had successfully showered and changed into the dinner jacket that the housekeeper had laid out for him as promised. The sun was still hovering low on the horizon, but was not completely sedate enough to go down just yet. There was still some time to go before the dinner at six, and so Anton made his way back to the study and picked up a couple of books from the less suspicious looking sections of the library and sat down behind the table and started reading one of them.

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Elizabeth: Part XXI

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Time passed quickly as Anton made his way through the simple path of the woods, taking in as much of the comforting temperate environment as much as he could while trying to keep his mind away from everything else. There was no obvious way of resolving the mystery that he was facing, and everything was contingent on as much research that he can unearth about the whole matter. Given the urgency of it all, the sooner he could do it, the better.

Without realising the time, Anton had subconsciously picked a path through the woods that eventually led out of itself on the other side, leading to yet another path that would eventually head back towards the manor. It was just as well for at that point was roughly the time in which Mr Higgins was about to send someone out to get Anton back---it was indeed approaching four, and the dinner appointment with the Crawfords were happening soon enough. The housekeeper smiled quietly to himself when he espied the master through the rear windows overlooking the field to the woods. That was one less item he needed to worry about as he scurried about preparing the dining room for the dinner party as his wife worked on the food.

Anton made his way back to the house via the main door to find that the housekeeper was already there, waiting for him.

``Master Anton, may I suggest that you take a shower before our guests arrive? The water has been prepared, and I have laid out your dinner jacket and the assorted attire on your bed. The food is in preparation and the dining room has been prepared. Is there anything else that you might want, master?''

`I'd totally want you to spill your guts and tell me just what was really going on here,' thought Anton to himself as he replied in the negative of needing more assistance from the housekeeper after thanking him for all the preparation work done. Anton folded up the umbrella that he had been using the whole early afternoon and placed it back into the ceramic stand next to the front door, nodding once again at the housekeeper before re-entering the house.

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Elizabeth: Part XX

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The plan that began as something viable started to quickly lose its lustre the more he thought about it. He did not have to do any work of any sort other than keep house at the manor, which made the need for a satellite-based Internet connection something that was very hard to justify. That in itself is already the biggest stumbling block of the whole matter. Moreover, even if he could get a satellite connection to the Internet, there was no guarantee that he could easily obtain line-of-sight with the dish kept indoors---he had no idea how large those were also, which added to the overall difficulty. That made his plan of direct communication trying to say the least.

As he walked in the woods, Anton kept on thinking over and over again ways and means of overcoming the problems that he had been seeing. Outside communication was clearly of paramount importance; it seemed that the reasons why the other previous masters of the manor had what appeared to be unlucky endings was likely because they did not have outside communications access, which meant a severe limitation of the ability for fact-finding, and more importantly, access to reuly objective bystanders who could never be a part of any charade. Anton started to wonder to himself if anyone had attempted to leave the county on a trip in a bid to get outside access---it sounded like something that could have been considered and done even during the time when the Internet was not the predominant means of communication. He made a mental note to look that up among the journals to study the outcomes of that particular endeavour.

The more he thought of it, the more it felt like something was terribly amiss. The biggest question on Anton's mind was not the nature of Elizabeth---she could be a real ghost or some kind of optical illusion, it did not matter to him---but the nature of the entire situation that he was placed in, or rather, the intended outcome. Was it to be that he be left alive but humiliated in some manner, embarassed perhaps, or was he to be killed off the way the rest of the masters of the manor allegedly went through? The final outcome was probably the strongest factor behind the time pressure that Anton was facing, and it was the question that he knew would be near impossible to get an answer for. He could probably try to beat the housekeeper for an answer, but somehow he knew that he would get nothing at best and incur the collective wrath of the county folk at worst. But to be on the safe side, Anton decided to make the assumption that there was indeed a real threat to his life and safety, and as he made his way to the centre of the woods he made the decision to find a way to leave the county and get some outside research done as well as to keep in contact with his friends to get more support.

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Elizabeth: Part XIX

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To call the grounds immediately outside of the manor as ``beautiful'' was an understatement. There was more to it than mere beauty---the patio itself led to a gravel road that wound outwards towards the the main slip road that led to the manors in the county. The gravel road itself was flanked by a well-kept lawn that a gardner came to tend to once every week. There was a strong sense of orderliness and neatness that made the immediate surroundings of the front of the manor convey a sense of tranquility among the rustic land. The gravel road itself was a holdover from the old days where horse carriages and buggies were the norm; now it saw the company of various light country cars instead. The strange thing though was that the manor itself did not have any cars on hand---all there were was a small stable of two or three horses that the groom would take good care of. All business to be conducted away from the manor generally entailed horse rides out through the county, which generally meant that the effective range was roughly twenty miles for a day trip. It was possible to order a cab to go farther out, but it involved a trip down to the county's cab company, on horseback no less, in order to place the order. Once again the trustees' demand of maintaining traditional customs had come into effect.

Anton stood at the doorway and sniffed the air. It had a certain freshness about it, despite the fact that it was already the start of the afternoon. It was a good thing though that the sky was slightly overcast since it provided the shade necessary to make a walk out on the grounds of the manor more comfortable. Glancing at the gravel road in front of him, Anton was reminded by the distinct lack of transportation options, something that he had once dismissed as mere anachronism on the part of the board of trustees, but now seen as a not-so-subtle attempt at enforcing the environment necessary for the ``closed circle'' syndrome. He shrugged to himself unconsciously before checking on his actions---he wasn't sure if the housekeeper was acutally keeping an eye out on him from somewhere within the manor itself. Not wanting to run the risk of excessive sunlight or rain, Anton grabbed an umbrella from the ceramic stand next to the front door and opened it up before walking out of the patio and down the gravel road until he came to a paved path that veered off to the left.

The path was paved with red bricks and was a recent addition to the estate. It was previously a muddy trail that led off towards the small woods past the stables that was to the rear of the house, but was finally paved over with bricks by one of the more recent masters of the manor because he couldn't stand getting his loafers dirtied each time he wanted to take a whalk. It was on this path that Anton found himself on now as he walked slowly along it. He was still near the house itself, and did not dare to talk to himself out loud to help him reason through his thought processes. He walked on quietly, following the path till he was past the stables and fast towards the open field which came before the woods themselves.

Roughly a hundred metres away from the house, Anton started to talk to himself out loud, reasoning about his possible courses of action. It was clear that the hardest thing to do was to get communication out somehow. While the county, as a whole, was quite rustic in nature due to its out-of-the-wayness in the country, modern communication amenities were still available, albeit in very limited places. There were few cellphone towers, and those that were present tended to be nearer the main road in town rather than out in the country, and the only form of Internet access was the satellite kind. Anton started wondering if it were possible for him to get satellite Internet set up on the manor. He could ask for it to be set up such that it did not destroy the outwardly rustic charm by having the dish indoors in the study or even his room, and it provided him with the ability to actually communicate outside of the county and even outside of the country, where some of his friends were. He was sure that money was not a problem, considering the allowance the he was given by the board of trustees, leaving the only problem to that of logistics.

Anton thought about the reasons to justify the ruse as he made his way half way through the field and towards the woods. By now, the manor was quite far away, and anyone who was observing him could see him only as a vaguely human-shaped figure, and was very unlikely to actually hear him. Nevertheless, Anton still kept his voice down low as he thought and rethought through his plan.

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Elizabeth: Part XVIII

(Story begins here.)

Anton stood up from his partially reclining and gently patted on his belly. If the housekeeper was suspicious of anything, he remained emotionless and channelled nothing whatsoever, merely bowing before helping Anton by moving the chair farther back to make it much easier for him to stand up more completely and turn towards the exit of the dining room. Anton took a few tentative steps towards the exit before pivotting around and said to the housekeeper, ``Mr Higgins, I am going to take a short walk on the grounds to allow the lunch to settle in. I think I will be back before the dinner appointment with the Crawfords, but in the off chance that I am not back by four, will you come out and look for me to inform me of the time? I think it is a lovely day out and I don't wish to wear a watch for a little jaunt.''

The housekeeper took another small bow and replied in the affirmative. The situation thus controlled, Anton marched quickly out of the dining room and re-entered the grand hall, where the grand staircase took centre stage. The floor of the grand hall was tiled with marble, something that one of the earlier masters of the manor had done as a form of renovation over a previous version of the house that no one seemed to have remembered. There were few gas lamps on that floor; most of the illumination, at least for the day, were provided by the tall windows that opened up on the second floor that allowed the sunlight to simply stream straight down. Night time was a wholly different affair---only the light of a gibbous or full moon was enough to provide any form of illumination, the gas lamps used only during winter where the nights were the longest and the darkest throughout the year.

But Anton wasn't that interested in the interior decoration of the place. For one, he had stayed there long enough that they no longer held any special meaning to him, and for two, he needed to go somewhere out of the immediate region of control of the housekeeper to do even more thinking. That last bout of thinking that he did was a good start, in his opinion, but it was not a clearly hashed out plan by any measure. There were details to think about, consequences to consider, and people that he needed to figure out how to get in contact with without incurring any additional life-threatening suspicions. Anton crossed the grand hall and stepped to the main doors leading out to the front patio, and opened them wide.

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Elizabeth: Part XVII

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Anton threw open the dining room door and stepped in boldly, possibly trying to signal to himself that it was time to cast aside all the thoughts that he had been nursing till then. The housekeeper was particularly sharp, and Anton was sure that he would accidentally telegraph his doubts on everything that was presented to him had he still kept all the thoughts in his mind. In the dining room, Mr Higgins stood next to the same head of the long table, waiting for him. When he saw Anton entering with such gusto, Mr Higgins gave a slight bow and said simply ``Welcome, Master Anton. Your lunch is ready and will be served shortly.''

Anton took his place at the head of the table, realising for the umpteenth time how empty it felt when there were no visitors of any sort who were there to dine with him. He started to think about inviting his own friends from outside of the county to come over as guests, but quickly arrested himself when he realised that his thoughts could be betraying him at that moment, though his worries were all in vain because the housekeeper had taken leave of the dining room to enter the kitchen to obtain the victuals that were prepared for the luncheon. That was the main difference between breakfast and the other two meals; the first one was always prepared and spread out on the table even before Anton entered, some kind of informal gesture since breakfast was taken to be a kind of private meal, whereas lunch and dinner always began with an empty table and Mr Higgins bringing in each course of the meal one by one, removing the plates and cutlery only when that particular course is already done. In the beginning of it all, Anton felt that the practice was weird beyond comprehension, particularly since the same procedure was followed even when he did not have any guests joining him for a meal. He had brought it up to Mr Higgins before, but the latter simply gave a bow and said that regulations and traditions were to be obeyed and that there would be no deviations to it, unless of course if the board of trustees were to send their approval, something that was nearly impossible to obtain considering that Anton had no clue where nor who the board of trustees were.

The housekeeper kept up his duty of bringing in food and taking away empty plates throughout the entire luncheon, and it was nearly one when the meal itself was over and done with. By that time, Anton felt so satiated that he could think of nothing except to go out for a walk about the manor's grounds as a way of working off the food that he had eaten.

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Elizabeth: Part XVI

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The approach from the study back to the dining room was fraught with lots of disturbingly deep thoughts. At the back of his mind, Anton could not easily dismiss the little bit of information that he had just read up on, especially the exhortation to distrust the words of the housekeeper. Each step he took forward increased the amount of skepticism he had for the advice, and even more doubts at just how lethal the entire affair surrounding Elizabeth was. The whole story sounded like an instance of the ``closed circle'' syndrome, a self-reinforcing echoing chamber when the participants in the entire affair are isolated from everyone else who might have provided a more rational and objective perspective. The key elements seemed to be in place---the isolated mansion, the unassuming housekeeper and his wife, the relatively quiet neighbourhood, the expansive grounds, the apparent wealthiness of the masters who seemed to be drawn from a pool of people that only a mysterious board of trustees know about, and last of all the mysterious board of trustees who, for one reason or another, are the key orchestrating force in populating the manor in the first place.

As he walked down the stairs, Anton started to wonder if the entire affair were merely an elaborate prank that was being played upon whoever the master of the manor was at that point in time, and that no one was actually killed or dead, and that all the previous masters, if they had actually existed, contributed their bit to the prank run by the board of trustees by leaving behind a trove of false documents that the next unfortunate victim would naturally read up and take as gospel truth, thus setting himself up for the eventual punchline. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed plausible, but then he realised immediately that there was no way of proving it while he was still in the mansion, and if it were truly an elaborate prank, he may never find proof to the contrary should he remain in the county itself, since it was exceedingly likely that the board of trustees, whoever they were, had the entire county in on the prank. That would also easily explain the large number of visitations from the various people in the county; a means of formally identifying the next official victim.

It then came upon Anton that the only way to test out that theory was to seek records from outside of the county itself. But which establishment should he go to? The ways of official reporting were beyond what Anton knew---he was never really much of a bureaucrat himself before becoming the master of the manor. Perhaps he could look up some of his solicitor friends from back in the day to see if they can give him a hand in solving this mystery. But a problem remained: he had to do it all without causing any form of suspicion. He would have to visit his friend outside of the county, and preferably alone. Anton spent the last few steps crossing the grand lobby towards the dining room rethinking his next course of action and making a note of it.

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Elizabeth: Part XV

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Anton heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the reassuring click sounds of the catches in the doors interlocking in place. He was fairly certain that the housekeeper had already figured out what he was doing, especially since it was clear that the latter had already known enough about the books that were in the library, considering how quickly he could discover that Anton was ``reading'' the Holy Bible from a mere glance. Once that realisation hit in, Anton could feel himself sinking deeper into his shoes, as though there were incontrovertible evidence that he was indeed ignoring the permonitionary nature of the ivory card and was doing exactly against what was advised. But in the back of his mind, he felt as though there was still some level of hope left. While Mr Higgins had, with high probability, figured out just what Anton was doing, he did not actually make any attempt to demonstrate his knowledge on the matter, and more importantly, did not seem to give way any of the usual reactions from someone to clean up one's reputation. Of course that could just be false hope, and that Mr Higgins' indifference was indeed one of the many aspects that he was lying.

Anton groaned softly to himself. There was little to be done then except to make his way down for lunch---his presence had been confirmed and he would be playing into the housekeeper's trap if he had done anything other than turning up, if there was a trap to begin with. There was that little bit of doubt at the other back of Anton's mind as he tried to weigh the evidence for and against the veracity of the note. From Reginald Archibald's account, it discounted him being the author of the card. It was wholly possible that his immediate predecessor was the author, but that was not easy to tell other than to follow the paper trail back through the journals, a handy piece of work that Anton was certain to take a profoundly long time to complete, time that he did not know if he had. Pushing the thoughts aside, Anton started to glance about the room to see if there was any easy way of hiding the journal. The best place he could think of was to return the journal to where he had found it---it had the advantage of not leaving anything immediately incriminating within ease of reach thus strengthening his story of studying the biblical verses, and the added benefit of hiding it in plain sight to facilitate ease of retrieval. He stood up from behind the desk and slipped ou the book from beneath the Holy Bible and walked to the shelf that he had gotten it from, and gingerly pushed it back into its original position among the other journals.

Satisfied with the provisional safety, Anton dusted himself down and straightened out his attire before exiting the study.

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Elizabeth: Part XIV

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Anton's reading was interrupted at the moment by three quick raps on the door, the hallmark of Mr Higgins' polite attempt at requesting entry. Anton hastily moved the Holy Bible on top of the journal, and quickly shoved the card below everything from his side of the table, hoping that there was no overt signs of him reading anything but the Holy Bible. With a more permanent cover complete, he raised his voice and replied ``Come in!''

The heavy door of the study was pushed open slowly, and in the middle of the door frame stood the housekeeper, dressed in his full livery as always. There was something slightly odd about his face that Anton could not quite place his hands on, but for that moment, he was willing to let it slide. The disruption was untimely and he wanted the housekeeper out of the study as soon as he could, especially since he had been warned by the mysterious card that the housekeeper lies about Elizabeth. If the oddness of the face was anything peculiar, Mr Higgins did not show it for longer than that fraction of a second as he stepped into the study on a couple of deliberate steps and gave a bow.

``Master Anton, your lunch is ready to be served in the dining room. Would you like to have it now?''

``What? At ten? Are you being serious?'' Anton replied sounding incredulous.

``Master Anton, the time now is nearer to noon than to ten. I see that you have been reading the Scripture; perhaps your intense concentration has made the time pass seem to pass faster than it is. Nevertheless, would you be having your lunch served now or later?''

Anton looked at the housekeeper in the eyes, trying to see if he could detect that faint oddness that was present just moments before. All that he got back was a rather dry and bemused look, sedate even, the waiting face of someone who serves. He wondered if the housekeeper had suspected more than he had been revealing, possibly through the veiled threat of knowing more than he said through the rather overt reference to the fact that he could see that the Holy
Bible was the book that was opened on the desk in front of Anton. A sudden cold chill ran down Anton's spine when he thought of the possibilities that the same housekeeper having experience seeing other masters of the manor doing a similar action during their time when they were alive. That was not a good thought to Anton; he had not expected that he would have to defend himself that early in the entire affair. Realising that he was probably staying silent for a tad too long, Anton made a quick decision and replied.

``I think I will have it now, thank you.''

``Excellent!'' the housekeeper replied, obviously delighted at the choice of Anton. ``I shall set up your place at the dining room forthwith and await your arrival. Today's lunch is a succulent lamb shank that Mrs Higgins had managed to get from the butcher's earlier today, nicely roasted to a soft texture. I am very sure that you will enjoy it much, Master Anton.''

``I... see. How about the dinner preparations, Mr Higgins, the one with the Crawfords?''

``Mrs Higgins is preparing beef brisket and a number of other dishes that will be ready for the appointment at six this evening. It will be well prepared; Mrs Higgins never fails to prepare a meal good enough for Master Anton's guests.'' And with that, the housekeeper gave yet another bow, and backed out of the room before silently shutting the study doors in front of him.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part XIII

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It was roughly two months in that I was the official master of M--- Manor that I first saw Elizabeth. It was late at night, roughly ten or eleven o'clock, it was hard to tell what the exact time was. I believe it was a full moon out; I should probably check on the almanac to confirm it by the next entry. I was asleep in the bedroom on the second floor, one of three bedrooms situated on the same floor. It was a rather isolated bedroom in comparison to the other two which were next to each other and on the other side. I remembered being rather exhausted that night, for I had spent the day meeting with a group of count officials who thought it most improper to have not meet the new master of M--- Manor, despite my protestations that it was more appropriate for me to pay them a visit, considering that I was the newcomer and that they were county officials and therefore the more distinguished. They dismissed my protestations and claimed that it was not as improper as I thought it was, and that it was time to keep up with the times, where one could easily go about visiting others should the urge arise, without having to pay excessive attention to the whole courtesy involved in the propriety of it all; after all, everyone belonged to the same county and are therefore neighbours, and in the notion of neighbourliness, there was no such thing as the superiod and the inferior. There were a good many discussions during the day, particularly on issues regarding taxation, land holdings and a whole myriad of minutae that I will not even bother to go into detail here. Suffice to say, it had been a long day, I was exhausted, and I was glad that I could finally get to bed.

As I lay there and slowly slipping into sleep, I woke up with a start from the distinct sound of a flute playing. It was a curious thing, that flute sound. The tune had a wistful feel to it, sombre, depressing. I did not remember anyone playing the flute in the household. There was me, and I do not play the flute. The houskeeper, Mr Higgins, did not play the flute either. I have met Mrs Higgins, the housekeeper's wife, and she did not play the flute as well. I was curious at what was going on, and made my way out to the corridor balcony that overlooked the main hall, where the grand stairs were located. Even from my position immediately outside of the bedroom, I could see quickly that there was someone in white at the bottom of the grand stairs, playing on the flute. There were some hints of long hair which suggested that its owner was female. I made my way towards the grand stairs and asked who she was and what she was doing playing the flute in the middle of the night at the manor where I was not expecting any visitors. She put aside her flute and looked up the stairs towards me and apologised profusely. She claimed that she was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked nothing like any ordinary woman. She had soft features, almost like nobility or at least a Lady of some peerage, which, when framed by her long hair, seemed to be contrasted in a way that was very appealing. I had wanted to strike a conversation with her when I casually glanced at her legs while following the outline of her white frock and realised that I could not see any actual feet touching the ground. It was at this point that she exhorted me to not run away after saying that I had discovered her secret. She proceeded to call me by name, and started telling me things like how I was the person she was waiting for all her life, making me promise to meet up with her whenever she appeared. Then, as mysteriously as she came, she left, this time ``walking'' towards a door at the bottom of the grand stairs. Seeing nothing else amiss, I went back to bed and tried to sleep off the whole matter.

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(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part XII

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Journal the Fifth of Reginald Archibald, Master of M--- Manor

Day 3

I have decided to start on the fifth book of my journal just so that I can easily document the issues and findings that I have discovered with respect to the affair involving Elizabeth, a curious apparition that seems to have manifested herself to me just two nights ago. The only reason why this journal exists is to, in all essence, provide my own rather meagre findings to complement the other discoveries, thoughts and opinions that the other masters of M--- Manor have observed and annotated in their own journals. I have, at this point, discovered that prior to my taking over of M--- Manor, there had been, at last count, nearly twenty-five other such masters of this place. I am of the opinion that most of them may have seen Elizabeth, but I have not had the time to verify anything as at now. It seems though, based on what I have read thus far from my immediate predecessor, that the actual dates of the occurrences of Elizabeth matter little; some masters have seen Elizabeth in the dead of Winter, others in Summer, and there were a few more distributed seemingly randomly between Spring and Autumn. The key commonalities, if it can so be called in the various descriptions of the observations \&c.\ thus highlighted, lies in which the relative number of days have occurred between the very first sighting to the day of any particular sighting. Thus, it is likely that in one case, a second sighting occurs on the fourth night, followed by the eighth, and in another, the second occurs on the fifth followed by the tenth \&c. I have not managed to discover the underlying governing relationship among these time periods, but such patterns have a consistent enough behaviour that the previous masters have made such annotations on their own from which, of course, I draw a summary of information from.

While it may seem odd to begin with the third day instead of the first, it is wise to note that I have only managed to decide to begin a fresh journal, my fifth, only because I have discovered, on the second day, that the library consists of journals of the previous masters who had also documented similar observations as had I. The one curious thing that seemed to have happened lies in the discovery of a rather odd looking piece of card, ivory in colour, with handwritten lines on it using a rather neat cursive whose style I cannot quite put my finger on. The contents, as I reproduce here, are the following:

``Beware of Elizabeth! The housekeeper lies. Search not for details on her. The truth will imprison you. You are forewarned.''

The premonitionary nature of this card is one that cannot be easily dismissed. It is also of a curious nature to have discovered that this card fell out of the journal of the last master of this manor, the very first journal that I have decided to read. Thinking that this card was merely of a recent vintage, I boldly disregarded its warning and decided that, in the pursuit of truth, I cannot afford to follow its exhortations thusly. Moreover, that the card was there was of a rather suspicious nature, and I had initially thought of it as being of foul play, from which the housekeeper, a Mr Higgins, was the primary suspect. I was rather surprised to find, upon reading the journal of the last master, that the same card, or at least, a card of a similar nature as the one that I hereby enclose in my journal for safekeeping, had also fallen out of the journal that he had read during his time.

Of the nature of the journal though, I have to say with great regret at this moment, that I had not read it through to its final conclusion. I had only begun to scratch the surface through the first few major entries before I was called away for various social obligations. I humbly beseech anyone who reads my journal and finding that I had failed in resolving the Elizabeth affair to pick up the previous master's journal to complement the information that he has learnt from what I had observed personally, for it makes little sense to replicate what is already in easy access for reference.

I shall now recount the first sighting of Elizabeth.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part XI

(Story begins here.)

Anton decided to press on, to find what he thought was going to be the truth. If he managed to find it, it would be great, and if he died trying, at least there were no regrets. It wasn't the case that Anton wanted to be a martyr of some sort; the manor itself was sufficiently obscure that even he didn't know anything about it until the trustees contacted him and informed him that he was the new master. In fact, the whole affair sounded so suspiciously strange that at first blush, he didn't want to accept the position. But after being persuaded again and again, he relented, and now the whole Elizabeth affair was starting to stare him down like a decision made wrong.

He wanted to right that decision. It was a matter of principle.

If the housekeeper (or family for that matter) had anything to do with it, he wanted justice to be served. Years of declaring homicides as suicides was morally reprehensible no matter how he looked at it. He blamed himself a little for his need for having a morally upright attitude to things, but in his heart he knew that doing the right thing was always the right way to proceed, no matter how costly it may end up. Besides, at this point, it was still his life on the line, and if he succeeded, he would have won back something that was priceless. There was nothing else that could beat that, no matter how one tried.

Anton looked at the desk clock and realised that he had already used up an hour of time making his decision. Lunch was coming up soon, and there was a high chance that Mr Higgins would drop by the study to summon him for his meal in the dining room. This meant that there was also a good chance of the housekeeper realising what it was that he was doing and therefore get all suspicious and might even potentially bring forward whatever nefarious programme he had due to the perception of a running out of time. That was clearly a situation that Anton didn't want happen. An idea suddenly dawned upon him---to use another book as a cover. He walked over to the religion section of the library and selected a beautifully bound version of the King James' Edition of the Holy Bible and laid it atop the empire desk and sat back down on the high-backed chair. He opened up the bible to somewhere near the centre pages, and opened up the journal, placing the latter immediately below the former so as to be covered easily by the much thicker book in front of it.

His primitive cover set up, Anton proceeded to read the journal.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part X

(Story begins here.)

Anton looked at the card that fell in amazement. It wasn't actually something that he was expecting, but it did seem to support his theory that the journals were out of order because some searching had been done on them, otherwise why would there be such an out-of-place object among the antiquated-looking journals? Anton slowly squatted down and picked up the card with his free hand. The card itself felt rough, like it was cheap stationery, unlike any of the much more elegant papers and cards that were available in the study itself. The side that Anton was looking at was plain, not quite white, but more ivory in colour. He wasn't sure if the slight even yellowing of the card was due to age or due to the material in which it was made of, but it wasn't that important. He impatiently flipped the card over.

There were two lines written in neat cursive on the new side that was revealed to Anton using a fountain pen. It was impossible to say who had written it for sure as it wasn't dated in any way, but the words that were on it sent a chill down Anton's spine.

``Beware of Elizabeth! The housekeeper lies. Search not for details on her. The truth will imprison you. You are forewarned.''

Anton stared blankly at the two lines on the card, dumbfounded, the ominous words ringing throughout his mind like a resonance. Was this meant to be a joke? Could it be something that Mr Higgins and his father alike have set up to hide some kind of deep secret, or was it something even more sinister? Why was the note so insistent in tone about forgetting about the matter while simultaneously asking one to be wary of Elizabeth? How would the truth imprison one? Who WAS Elizabeth?

Anton slowly stood up, one hand holding on to the journal, the other holding on to the card. He walked quietly to the empire desk and set both down as he dropped himself into the high-backed chair, slumping. He was at a dilemma. It was clear now that the card confirmed his theory, that the other masters before him had gone roughly the same route as he had thus far. That the journals were kept out of order meant that each new master had probably gone a little further than the previous one had, and each had tried to leave behind some kind of sign for his successor that something was amiss, and to warn the unknown successor of the folly that had befallen them when they dismissed all the warnings and wandered down the same path, which suggested that he ought to abandon his quest there and then. Yet somehow it seemed like he had a slightly better chance than his predecessors at figuring out the problem of Elizabeth and more importantly, learn of ways to escape from her grasp, whoever she may be, given that he now had the combine knowledge of all his predecessors, which meant that he could possibly solve the mystery once and for all, thus prompting him to redouble his efforts.

The two competing ideas bounced about in Anton's head for roughly an hour before he made his decision.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part IX

(Story begins here.)

The study was built in a similar manner as the rest of the house, except that it was significantly more stylish. No expenses were spared in furnishing the room. The curtains were of the most luxurious velvet, while the walls were covered with pastel wallpapers that helped in projecting an aura of warmth in the room. The large windows opened out to the expansive back yard, and before it was a large mahogany empire desk, ornately carved and beautifully lacquered in the deepest of brown. Behind it, with its back to the windows was a leather high-backed chair whose colour and sheen matchedthat of the empire desk perfectly, giving the illusion that the two came as a set when they weren't. Below the desk was a large Persian rug that a previous master of the manor had brought back from Cairo whilst travelling in the middle east among the Arabs on business. The textile was intricately woven and soft to the touch, keeping the ground warm during the cold nights and cool during the warm days. It was said that the rug (it was more like a carpet than a rug) had been in the study for the past fifty years, but its colours were still vibrant, though with an aged quality that made it look dignified than worn. Nearer the door were two easy sitting chairs imported from Malaya, their rattan frames betraying their origins.

But these were nothing compared to the main attraction of the study, that is, the books themselves. On all the four walls that bordered the study, they were lined with bookshelves that spanned from floor to ceiling, and on them, rows upon rows of books of all forms of subject matter. Anton had spent some time in the study before, and during one of those times, the housekeeper had pointed out the main sorting criteria for the layout of the bookshelves, remarking that the library of books reflected upon the eclectic taste of many generations of masters of the manor. He had also reflected that not all masters had contributed their own tastes to the library, but even the least literary-inclined had added a book or two to the collection. Among those included some journals and diaries, the very things that Anton was most interested to dive into at this point.

Anton closed the door to the study behind him carefully and looked about him to take his bearings. It wasn't his first time in the study, but its sheer density of information still needed some time for orientation before anything useful could be gleaned. He figured out where the journal section was and made his way there. The journal section of the library spanned three shelves of a single bookshelf, and he groaned at the amount of reading he would have to do just to isolate the useful information. He paused for a moment to consider the best way to go about searching through the trove of information before deciding on working his way from the most recent master's journal back. It was probably more likely to contain information about Elizabeth that he can use anyway due to its close proximity in time. Anton thumbed through the spines of the journals which mercifully had their author's name and time period embossed in it, possibly after the journal was completed. The ordering wasn't quite in chronological order---there were signs that the journals had been searched through before and replaced possibly in a semi-haphazard manner. Anton's suspicions were confirmed when he found the journal of the last master and retrieved the volume.

A small white card fell off the volume and landed in front of Anton.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part VIII

(Story begins here.)

There was, of course, a small catch. He needed to make his inquiries without incurring the suspicions of the housekeeper, a tall task considering just how out of the way the manor was relative to the nearest church where records were kept. Then another thought came to Anton's mind. Wasn't it the case that there was a private library located in the study on the second floor? Perhaps that library could contain some background information about the manor and its previous occupants that he can use to fine-tune his external inquiries. He had at most seven or so days given the narration of the housekeeper under the most pessimistic assumptions, and he was determined to make use of them to verify the tales he were told and to seek a solution to the underlying problem.

Anton picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth before setting it gently on the table. Mr Higgins had already appeared in the room despite his earlier request to back out from the increasingly uncomfortable conversation, ready to give any sort of aid to Anton.

``Has Master Anton finished his meal?'' The housekeeper asked, his voice much calmed from before.

``Yes Mr Higgins, could you please help me clear the table?''

``That is my intention,'' Mr Higgins bowed as he stood aside and helped Anton to move the chair backwards so that the latter could stand up and get out of it.

``Mr Higgins, what is my schedule like for the day? Am I expecting guests from the neighbours? I am intending to spend some time in the study to work on some reading and wouldn't really like to be disturbed if possible.''

``Just the Crawfords for dinner, Master Anton. You promised them an appointment in reply to a letter that they had written you expressing their apologies for not being able to call upon you earlier when you first took residence due to the family being away on business in the city itself. The appointment was set to six o'clock this evening.''

Anton scratched his chin. It wasn't that bad of a social obligation to uphold, considering that he had two large unbroken blocks of time to see if he can make any sense of the tales that were told to him. Besides, it was going to be hard to push away the appointment seeing as he was the one who proposed the date and time in the first place. He nodded at the housekeeper, who bowed and backed up a little. He then made his way back up the grand stairs and turned towards the corridor leading to the study before pushing open the heavy wooden doors and stepping in.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part VII

(Story begins here.)

``So, you mentioned that all the previous masters of the manor had asked you about the apparition. What happened to each of them?'' Anton asked as he observed the housekeeper's reaction. There was a sudden dark cloud that seemed to pass through the housekeeper's eyes, followed by the unmistakeable demonstration of fear from the sudden constriction of the pupil made obvious by the greenish iris. The housekeeper looked away and cleared his throat before trying to continue.

``They... they all met different ends. Some had hung themselves at various parts of the house---I will not tell you where, Master Anton, forgive me---while others had ended up throwing themselves off their horses in all manners, breaking their necks or heads as they did so. Foul play was never suspected. All official investigations always turned up ruling the deaths by either suicide or by misadventure. There were no obvious signs of the apparition being the cause, but somehow I suspected that it was the only reason why each of these men met their dooms the way they did since there was no other common linkage among them other than the fact that they could trace their lineage back to the ancestor in which the trust managing this manor was founded upon in one form or the other.''

``No foul play whatsoever? Not even the chance of the newer master trying to off the previous one or the trustees having some kind of conspiracy?'' Anton asked in disbelief.

``Not that I know of, not that the official investigations showed,'' the housekeeper answered quickly and earnestly.

``How long did they live between first seeing the apparition and their... untimely demise?''

``It varies,'' Mr Higgins replied, looking visibly shaken now. ``Some were gone within a week, others took as long as six to eight months before they... they perished. I'm sorry Master Anton, I have served many of these men before as their housekeeper the way I am serving you now, and each time I bring up the memories on them I am forced to revisit the trauma of finding their motionless bodies in their various broken ways, and... it had been too much. I had wanted to quit a long time ago, but there were no others who would dare to be the housekeeper here. The trustees pay me handsomely to be here, which explains why I am still here despite it all, but the sheer rememberance of the past has at times caused me no small amount of discomfort. Please forgive me, Master Anton as I take my leave. Already I think I have spoken too much.''

Mr Higgins stood up against Anton's half-hearted protestations, gave a small bow, before backing himself out of the dining room and back into the kitchen where his wife was.

Anton sat at the table and dug into the remainder of his food in silence, his mind cranking through what he had heard and experienced. He had no doubt as to what he had witnessed the night before, but having the same circumstance appearing over the past fifty or even more years was bordering more on the suspicious than the supernatural, considering that the stories that were told to each master was, according to the housekeeper, seemingly tailor-made for each person, something that was wholly inconsistent with many of the hauntings that he had known.

Apart from the house, and the lineage, the only other commonality among all of the previous masters was that their housekeepers were of the Higgins family. That the housekeeper was still willing to be present as merely a housekeeper was already very suspicious, the high pay notwithstanding. Why, if the pay were that good, would it not be better of the housekeeper were appointed by the trustees to be the official master of the manor instead of having so many men sent to their doom?

The more he ate and thought about the issue, the more absurd it started to sound in his head. There was plenty of opportunity for the housekeeper to exact mischief, though it was not clear what the motives may be. Anton couldn't be bothered with solving this apparent mystery on his hands, but the prospect of being the next dead master of the manor was much less appealling than expending effort to figure out just what was going on. With that in mind, Anton decided to spend his time researching on the history of the manor after breakfast.

(Story continues here.)

Elizabeth: Part VI

(Story begins here.)

``Mr Higgins, don't leave---take a seat. Will you be so kind as to tell me more about Eliz... ah the apparition of the stairs?'' The housekeeper paused and looked at Anton quizzically and was about to reply when Anton interjected with, ``and please don't tell me how it is inappropriate for the housekeeper to sit at the dining table. I will hear none of this. When there are no guests about, you can be more at ease here than you would otherwise be accustomed to. All the officiousness is something that I cannot really tolerate within myself, and please humour me by being at ease and take a seat before you answer me anything.''

The housekeeper looked at Anton, gave a small bow, and pulled up the chair that was next to the head of the dining table and sat down. Anton started on his breakfast, and looked at Mr Higgins in expectation, waiting for the latter to begin his tale.

``Is there anything specific that you would like to know about the apparition, Master Anton?''

``Well Mr Higgins, nothing truly specific, just what you have known about Eliz... the apparition from the previous masters of the manor.''

The housekeeper looked at Anton, his face scrunched as though deep in thought, the wrinkles on his sixty-five-year-old face developing into much deeper crevices.

``As you know, Master Anton, I have been a housekeeper of this manor for over fifty years, having taken on the role as an understudy of my father who served as the previous housekeeper before he retired. Over the fifty years, there has been roughly three or four before you who sat here as masters of the manor. Within the first couple of months of their arrival to the manor, they would all exclaim the same thing.''

`` `Does ``Elizabeth'' ring a bell?' '' Anton replied.

``Yes,'' the housekeeper nodded, ``they all asked me if `Elizabeth' meant anything to me. And I had been truthful to each of them in saying that I knew no more than what I had heard from the previous masters of the manor who had met up with the apparition.''

``And what was it that you have heard from the previous masters?''

``The earliest thing I could remember was what I learnt from my father, the previous housekeeper. In his day, he said that `Elizabeth' was not something that appeared in the early days. It was only towards the latter part of his tenure that he heard the masters talking about the apparition. The story was almost always the same; the apparition would know the master's name, and please Master Anton, let me assure you that none of the other master's were called Anton, and would inform them that they were the person that it had been waiting for all its life. It would talk about some marriage that did not occur, and that it was left at the altar when it was still alive, and how it died of a broken heart. Then it would make a promise with the master of that time to meet up on a regular basis to be close to the part of the master that resembled some part of its lost love.''

Anton sat there in silence, eating his omelette quietly, his mind processing what the housekeeper just said. There were many parts that he had said that matched the experience that Anton had quite strongly, and yet Anton hadn't actually told Mr Higgins about what had actually occurred. And from the way that the housekeeper was saying it, Anton had a weird feeling that it never did end well for each of the masters of the manor who followed through with their promises to Elizabeth.

(Story continues here.)