When Mr. Hiram B. Otis decided to buy the castle in Canterville, everyone told him he was being foolish.
There was no doubt that it was haunted.
In fact, when they met to discuss the sale, Lord Canterville told him that his family had stopped living there because of the ghost.
Two skeleton hands had grasped his great aunt's shoulders at dinner one night, scaring her out of her wits.
And Lord Canterville's wife, Lady Canterville, was never able to sleep there because of the mysterious noises in the library.
"My lord," said Mr. Otis, "my family is thoroughly modern, and we don't believe in ghosts.
Why, if there were such a thing as ghosts, I'm sure someone would have put one in the public museum a long time ago."
"I'm afraid you are mistaken, sir," said Lord Canterville very calmly. "I assure you the ghost exists."
"I tell you, there is no such thing," snapped Mr. Otis.
Lord Canterville didn't press the subject, and they concluded the sale.
He felt that the modern Mr. Otis had been properly warned.
Mr. Otis, for his part, happily bought the castle, "ghost and all," as he said when he shook Lord Canterville's hand.
A few weeks later, on a lovely July evening with a delicate scent of pinewoods in the air, the Otis family arrived at the gates of their new castle.
Sitting in the front of the carriage beside her husband was Mrs. Otis, a handsome, middle-aged woman, with a healthy complexion and modern sensibility.
Her oldest son, Washington, was a fair-haired and eager young man.
Sitting beside Washington in the back of the carriage was his sister Virginia.
Miss Virginia E. Otis was a beautiful girl of seventeen, with a charming freedom in her large blue eyes.
When the family had first seen the castle on a visit to Canterville that spring, Virginia had challenged old Lord Bilton to a race around the park on horseback.
The handsome young Duke of Cheshire had noticed her immediately and was glad when he learned that Virginia's father had bought Canterville Castle.
Seated side by side in the carriage across from Virginia were the young twins, who were attempting to steal each other's hats.
They were delightful boys, but they were always up to mischief.
As the carriage drove up to the castle, Virginia saw squirrels in the trees that lined the drive and watched rabbits hop away through the grass with their white tails in the air.
When the carriage pulled up to the great wooden doors of the castle, however, the sky became suddenly dark and gloomy.
On the castle steps stood an old woman dressed in black silk.
This was the housekeeper, Mrs. Umney.
"I bid you welcome to Canterville Castle," she said in an old-fashioned manner.
They all followed her into the library, a long oak-paneled room with a large stained-glass window and a great stone fireplace.
Tea was already set out for them on a silver tray.
As the family removed their coats and sat down, Virginia walked over to examine the beautiful stained-glass window.
In the middle pane, an inscription was formed in curious black letters.
When a golden girl can win
Prayer from out the lips of sin,
When the barren almond bears,
And a little child gives away its tears,
Then shall all the house be still
And peace come to Canterville.
Just as she was wondering what the strange poem could mean, she heard her mother's surprised voice:
"Oh my, I'm afraid there's a bad stain on the carpet."
Everyone came to look at the dull red stain just in front of the fireplace.
"Yes, madam," said the old housekeeper, "blood has been spilled on that spot."
"How horrible," said Mrs. Otis. "I don't think we want bloodstains in our home. You must clean it up."
Mrs. Umney spoke mysteriously.
"It is the blood of Lady Eleanore of Canterville," she said, "who was murdered on that very spot by her husband Sir Simon of Canterville three hundred years ago.
Sir Simon disappeared nine years later, and his body was never found.
His ghost haunts the castle to this day.
The stain cannot be removed."
"That's nonsense," said Washington right away.
Before Mrs. Umney could protest, he pulled out a bottle of Champion Stain Remover and quickly scrubbed away the stain. "I knew it," he exclaimed.
No sooner had he said these words than a terrible flash of lightning lit up the room. Everyone's heart leaped.
"I have seen terrible, terrible things in this house," Mrs. Umney intoned ominously, but Mr. Otis calmly assured her that no one was afraid of ghosts.
The storm raged fiercely all night, but nothing mysterious occurred.
The next morning, the twins were the first ones down for breakfast.
They were chasing each other around the wing-backed chairs in the library when they stopped in front of the fireplace.
Sure enough, the terrible bloodstain had returned.
"I don't think it can be the fault of Champion Stain Remover," said Washington when the family gathered in the library.
"It's always worked before."
He rubbed out the stain again, but the next morning the stain returned.
Mr. Otis locked the library that night before everyone went to bed, but still the stain was there in the morning.
"It must be the ghost," said Washington as he kneeled to clean up the ghostly mark once again.
That night, Mr. Otis was awakened by a strange noise in the corridor outside his bedroom.
It sounded like the clanking and squeaking of rusted metal, and it seemed to be coming nearer.
He got up, lit a candle, and put on his slippers.
From his night table he took out a small glass bottle and went to open his bedroom door.
Right in front of him, glowing in the moonlit hallway, was a horrible sight.
A terrible old man stood before him in ancient clothes with eyes burning red.
From his wrists and ankles hung heavy manacles and rusty chains.
"My dear sir," said Mr. Otis to the ghost, "I must insist that you oil those chains.
They are keeping me awake. I have brought you a bottle of Rising Sun Lubricator.
It is really quite good." Mr. Otis placed the bottle on a table in the hallway and returned to bed.
For a moment the Canterville ghost stood perfectly still with his ghastly jaw hanging open.
He knocked the bottle on the floor, uttered a hollow groan, and turned back down the corridor.
When he reached the top of the great oak staircase, a door flew open and two little figures in matching pajamas tossed their pillows at him.
Fearing further abuse to his dignity, the ghost quickly turned into a green vapor and escaped through the wall.
