Several generations ago, we are told, the estate of Witching Hill was the seat of a very wicked nobleman, and the evil he did lives after him. The Hill is cursed. All who come to occupy the suburban villas erected on the subdivided estate succumb to its evil influence. Blameless on arrival, they are speedily moved by an irresistible impulse to deeds of darkness.
more the spade struck wood, but sound wood this time. The last foot of earth was soon taken out, and an oblong trap-door disclosed, with a rusty ring-bolt at one end.
I tugged at the ring-bolt without stopping to think; but the trap-door would not budge. Then I got out of the hole for a pickaxe that Delavoye had produced with the spade, and with one point of the pick through the ring I was able to get a little leverage. It was more difficult to insert the spade where the old timbers had started, while still keeping them apart, but this once done I could ply both implements together. There was no key-hole to the trap, only the time-eaten ring and a pair of hinges like prison bars; it could but be bolted underneath; and yet how those old bolts and that wood of ages clung together! It was only by getting the pick into the gap made by the spade, and prizing with each in turn and both at once, that I eventually achieved my purpose. I heard the bolt tinkle on hard ground beneath, and next moment saw it lyin
Short stories built around clever premise of what happens when cursed estate is turned into suburban tract housing (c. 1912.) Not real scary but entertaining. Sort of Miss Marple visits The House on Haunted Hill.
Suggest download 1914 reprint version.