A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered
Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend
his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently
arrived.
There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the
face of something dark still wandering this place.
Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are
the result of thieves and local smugglers.
On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two
friends and candlelight. All at once they froza...! Suddenly
they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like
freezing winds from north.
No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real.
The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...!
The bullit passed straight through the fearsome shade.
Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not ment to fall.
No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died.
This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light.
Carrying a lantarn. Gliding past the walls where her soul
became enthralled. Fear replaced... skeptism. At last
the shade turned and grimned in a diabolical way. Right
before... she vanished.
