The door flies open and HIRST flings himself
gasping and shivering into MALCOLM'S arms. The door remains open. He has
only his trousers and shirt on, his face very white with fear and his
own hair all standing on end. LEEK lights the gas, then goes to R. of
HIRST._)
OMNES. What's the matter?
MALCOLM. Why, it's Hirst.
(_Shakes him roughly by the shoulder._)
What's up?
HIRST. I've seen--oh, Lord! I'll never play the fool again. (_Goes C._)
OTHERS. Seen what?
HIRST. Him--it--the ghost--anything.
MALCOLM (_uneasily_). Rot!
HIRST. I was coming down the stairs to get something I'd forgotten, when
I felt a tap--(_He breaks off suddenly gazing through open door._) I
thought I saw it again--Look--at the foot of the stairs, can't you see
anything? (_Shaking LEEK._)
LEEK (_crosses to door peering down passage_). No, there's nothing
there. (_Stays up L._)
(_HIRST gives a sigh of relief._)
MALCOLM (_L. C._). Go on--you felt a tap----
HIRST (_C._). I turned and saw it--a little wicked head with short red
hair--and a white dead face--horrible.
(_Clock chimes three-quarters._)
(_They assist him into chair L. of table R._)
GEORGE (_up C._). That's what I saw in the bar--'orrid--it was devilish.
(_Coming C._)
(_MALCOLM crosses to L. HIRST shudders._)
MALCOLM. Well, it's a most unaccountable thing. It's the last time I
come to this house. (_Goes to R. of LEEK.
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