Beyond Midnight

She is uncommonly clean in the run aft. She has enough bluffing off in the bows to keep her dry and her lower berths are most of them double. She has a lot of advantages, but I won't cross that duck pond in her again. You'll find out the terror that was curtained in the upper berth on the June crossing of the Atlantic that year, when all the drowned souls who ever were, endeavoured to drag me The recording I have with this title is the actually "The Marble Knights".

The quarrel was about a woman. The women who followed the footsteps of Philip of Orleans, were the causes of many such disputes; and there was scarcely one fair head in all that glittering throng which might not have seemed bedabbled with blood. There were many beautiful vipers in those days, and she was one of them; there is no need to mention her name. The quarrel was a fierce one, and there could be but one result. Richard Javelin, anthropologist, wanders into the Bonanza Department store looking for a water distilling outfit—a copper tank with coils of copper tubing used for distilling water—for a man expedition up the Amazon.

He takes the elevator to the 13th floor where he meets the most amazing sales woman and arranges to meet her after work. When she doesn't show up, he enquires at the store If the Bonanza hasn't got it, it isn't. You are entering the Bonanza Department Store. Anything from a spool of thread to complete equipment for an eight-month safari into the Congo. Ah, my last chance. Well, if I can't get it here, then Which floor I wonder. The relationship between two partners Leopold Thring and Clifford Macy on a small experimental estate in Borneo becomes quite strained when one of the partners returns from a trip to England with a young bride Rhona Fancy somewhere a bit quieter?

Like over there in the corner. Got a story to tell you. Remember the story about Mendingham you told me? I've got as good a one to tell you. Been hoping I'd see you. Had it straight from the Ah, Frank, double Scotches, two please. You going to try and scare me? Clara explains to her lover that she cannot marry because she is cursed.

He doesn't believe in curses. She tells the story of how, in Salem in , an old woman named Joan Bathfield tried to befriend a young girl named Emily. Emily bit her and, out of spite, pretended that the old woman was turning her into a cat. Six magistrates and four ministers of the gospel arrested the old woman and tried her for witchcraft. Even though Emily confessed that she was making the whole thing up, Joan was executed. On her deathbed, Joan cursed Emily's family for seven generations. It is now years later and Clara claims to be the 7th generation direct descendent of Emily Believe it or not.

Frankly I must tell you that the newspapers did not, but newspapers are like that. My story is called 'Cataclysm'. Lilian has always looked good in her yellow dressing gown. But lately, she feels her husband slipping away While cleaning one day, she discovers her old crystal ball and, gazing intently, witnesses events that have dire implications for her, her daughter, and her husband's mistress.

She turned her head and looked out of the window at the garden in which she spent a lot of her time. The roses were blazing in the two long beds. Lilian Hamilton sat at the writing table and slowly, in a style that was not good, but colourful and evocative, penned the story of her married life in a thick [school] exercise book. The last chapter was not going to be written, of course, for the final chapter of any autobiography must remain unwritten. A doctor becomes concerned for a friend who claims that his dreams are transporting him to another time and place, where savage horsemen are bearing down on him, swords drawn to kill him.

The dreams, or rather the different parts of the same progressive dream, become more complete each night. The friend is concerned that in a few nights the dream may reach its final, terrifying conclusion. His hands were clutching the simple iron frame of the bedstead above his head and the [dews] of his night terror had soaked the linen of the bedding. His name was Farlow.

He was a genius in his line, that of higher physics. He was also a friend and acquaintance of mine, and I believe it my duty to tell his story, not that I know what it all means, but I do know that Farlow was not mad. And yet, why should a celebrated scientist be admitted at his own request as a private patient to [Green] Mansion for rest and observation. You see, my friend Farlow experienced a brand of mental torture that is perhaps greater than anything ever recorded.

More terrible than anything dreamed up by the horror writers of the last two centuries. He travelled further than any other into the regions that lie A suspicious and peevish man, fast-approaching his 40th birthday, becomes discontented with his flirtatious young wife, Eloise, and decides his only option is to murder her [of course! When he learns about a secret room beneath his garage that once was used by bootleggers he decides to move ahead with his plan. After all, it's the perfect place to bury his wife, isn't it? Oh, uh, leave it there please. On the table there.

Generally speaking, that is. To Robert Holmes, though, forty held all the terrors that modern man can imagine within its two crisp syllables. Oddly, with each succeeding year, the age gap between him and Eloise, seemed to widen as if time were carrying him along and leaving her behind. In the beginning she had looked at him as being attractively mature, while now he felt she regarded him as growing old.

It was no trick of the imagination the way he saw Eloise looking at the younger men in the club, and a number of them, young 'bucks' like Edward Mathes, were not above doing something about it. He should have done something about it himself. Instead, he allowed it to prey on his mind, and that pathetic little number, the one that comes after thirty-nine, carried him The hotel has a wonderful garden It is surrounded by brick walls and starved for sunlight, but it is deserted. At least until one evening when the writer glances out his window and sees a woman, face turned away, the very embodiment of dejection and despair.

By the time he can walk to the garden, however, she has vanished. The hotel staff offer him a different room and warn him not to try to see her again. Crutchley was one of them. It wasn't until his name was mentioned casually that evening at the Storgates' that most of us remembered that we hadn't seen him for the last year or two.

Fellini the Great an ageing, dim-witted, muscle-bound escape artist is obsessed with his fading popularity and proposes a death-defying attempt at the Water Trick —shackled, strait-jacketed and dumped in the ocean. His wife is tired of hearing about it and plans to sabotage his escape from a potentially watery grave. Then they put the leg irons on the magician and locked the catches.

They stood over their victim and seemed smugly satisfied with their efforts. Then the woman put the screen in front of Fellini's bound body. In less than a minute the screen was thrown aside by Fellini, the Escape Artist Supreme But it is not with past triumphs that we're concerned. This is the story of Fellini's greatest, most baffling, escape Rusty Conners—recently released from prison—looks up Helen Krauss, the wife of his former cell-mate. Rusty's got a message for her. Seems before her old man died, he told Rusty where the loot was hidden.

It's with the body of the man he knocked off, but nobody could ever find. Now all Rusty and Helen need to do is figure out where the body is located. Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful, trusting relationship It was a counter joint, with a single row of hard-backed booths line one wall. Half-a-dozen customers squatted on the stools at the end of the counter near the door. He walked past them, slid into a stool at the far end. There he sat, staring at the three waitresses. None of them looked 'right' to him, but he had to take a chance. He waited until one of the women approached him.

But the lady said she was Helen and he guessed she ought to know, but she didn't look right. He looked her over. He had no time for women. Women try to make a monkey out of a man, all women. Women have to be treated rough, there's no other way to treat women.

No woman, though, would ever make a monkey out of him. She went to get him something cool, and he sat and worked things out. Even though her ship is found dismasted and void of life, it is meticulously clean, as if the crew had just departed with the life boats. The ropes are clean and neatly coiled, the calendar turned to the correct date. So where is everybody? Far away to the north showed dimly the grim, weather-beaten peak of the island of Tristan, the largest of the da Cunha group; while on the horizon to the westward we could make out indistinctly Inaccessible Island.

Both of these, however, held little interest for us. It was on Middle Islet, off the coast of Nightingale Island that our attention was fixed. We were looking for a boat, a long-lost boat called the "Happy Return". It had been lost in the vastness of the ocean. Only Trenhern would never believe that the beautiful girl he had sworn to make his wife would never again smile at him and sing to him. He searched and searched and I accompanied him on a voyage over the edge of the world into the abyss that lies A young, adopted girl with few friends compensates by talking and playing with an imaginary older brother.

Oh, but they are my mommy and daddy! Sharp shadows on grass. Children with red hair. And the name, Harry. Harry, such an ordinary name'. A wife and her husband Arthur, dedicated to transforming their new house into a home, receive a disturbing letter in the post. Hobart claims the house belongs to him by right of inheritance and aims to take possession. Mr Hobart dies in a plane crash en route from Australia It was drowsy weather.

There was so much to do, the new house, curtains and We went to bed before dark every day, tired out. By the same post, I got a letter from Mary. Forgetting Australia for the moment, I was deep in their everlasting news when something made me look up. I looked down again and then back once more at Arthur's face. I wasn't sure, then, what I saw there. I only knew that whatever it was, it wasn't good. Two soldiers on furlough share a compartment on a train to Edinburgh and become fast friends.

Alex invites Major Peter Buckel home to stay with him and his sister, Angela, for a few days. The three get along very well. Angela and Peter fall in love and marry The train was blacked out, lights were dim. I was sharing a compartment with another officer, [Major, of about 35]. He was reading The Idiot. We spoke hardly at all, just a word or two now and again. Above each of our seats was a notice which stated "Idle chatter helps Hitler. Just had no curiosity about one another, that's all. I [was going to Edinburgh] where my sister kept house for me. A young student of divinity, rambling the countryside near Medford, stumbles upon and seems drawn toward an abandoned house.

The door is locked and barred, but hearing someone approach, he hides himself and witnesses an odd spectacle—a little old man pauses before the door, bows to it, produces a key and inserts it into the lock, then presses against one of the door panels and enters as the door swings open. When the man leaves, he again bows to the door and hobbles away without a backward glance. Intrigued, the young man visits the house again and again and discovers that the old man visits the house on the last day of every quarter, precisely at sunset I was free to choose a career, and I chose it too quickly.

Afterwards I abandoned it with great speed, but I've never regretted the two years I spent in Cambridge as a student of divinity. Cambridge, for the lovers of woods and trees, has changed for the worse since those days, of course, but I remember the Cambridge I want to remember. One grey December afternoon, I went to the town of Medford. I was late in starting back for my lodgings, and as dusk was falling I came to a narrow road I did not recognize. I was about three miles away from home, and I reckoned the road offered me as good a shortcut as any. The road was obviously seldom used.

The wheel ruts looked old and after ten minutes walking, I came to And so began one of the strangest, and for a time, one of the most terrifying episodes in the whole of my life. Handsome and penniless David Snowden marries a young and innocent heiress, Bonnie Daniels. Bonnie's wealthy mother seeks to have their marriage annulled.

Davey and Bonnie concoct a plan to get mom off their backs Why this fate should befall our feline friends in particular, is beyond me. I do know, though, that if a bedroom door is locked, I cannot rest until it is opened. Perhaps you feel like that too. He had a few ideas about what might lie on the other side a certain locked door, but he could never have guessed with any accuracy.

You see, a mere turn of the handle sent him on a journey into and It had the dark, sullen look of all empty houses Charles Woodley flees to the highlands of Ethiopia to escape a curse that has been laid upon him for killing a sacred bull elephant—a curse which would cause him to die horribly, trampled beneath the feet of the God of All Elephants, if he were to stay in Tanganyika. There are no elephants in the Ethiopian highlands Another version was produced for Nightfall as "Mkara". The mountains of the Arussi country, Ethiopia. The Woodley's lived in a six-room cabin, fashioned from a wood known locally as [asala].

The trees that provide this wood grow at a high altitude, on the mountain slopes of that beautiful country that was once Abyssinia. Charles Woodley was devoting what he believed to be the last months of his life to correlating all there was to discover about the Abyssinian Bushbuck or 'Mountain Nyala' known in Arussi [credentia]. The Edinburgh-born doctor was not quite honest when he told the wife that there was nothing wrong with her husband. He had met men before who were determined to die. A tycoon, William Tinsley, obsessed with the notion that all insects are the agents of the Devil on Earth and are watching—always watching—him, devotes all his resources to wiping them out A mosquito circles above my bent head.

There are flies buzzing and colliding with the wire screen, around the naked yellow bulb in the ceiling. A bit of torn paper, that is a moth, flutters. An ant crawls up the wall. I watch it, the ant, with bitterness. How mistaken we three were: Susan and I and William Tinsley. Whoever you are, wherever you are, if you hear this, do not ever again crush the ants upon the sidewalk, do not smash the bumblebee that thunders by your window, do not annihilate the cricket upon your hearth. You see, that's where Tinsley made his colossal error.

He was the man who threw away a million dollars on fly-sprays and insecticides and ant killers. I was this man's secretary just after the second World War. I was with him when he wandered into a web and became lost forever from human eyes Too many jokes played on too many people lead to unexpected consequences for Bradley, a boorish reporter on the Police Beat who finds it amusing to play practical jokes on anybody he can, including the night attendant at the morgue.

It was later produced as a teleplay for Alfred Hitchcock Presents in It was a dull night, [? Bradley, of 'The Express', tired of playing three-handed stud and waiting for something to happen. Pop Henderson was the night attendant on duty at the morgue, in the basement of the building. Funny place to play a joke. Funny person to play a joke on, Pop Henderson, watchman of the morgue.

But Bradley was like that, you see, he was a jokester, and that's how it all began. The hour had gone long A writer seeking solitude so he can finish his novel buys a remote house so he can have some peace and quite! What he discovers however, is mystery: My inheritance from him enabled me to buy it, for it was the isolated kind of dwelling I'd been looking for in order to finish a novel I was working on. I've always found it impossible to create anything worthwhile in the noise of the city. The house was fully furnished, but since it had been empty for many years, it was extremely dusty and I spent my first day cleaning away the dust in the few rooms I intended to use.

I remember the place as if it were only yesterday I discovered the green vase, learnt it's terrible secret, and passed so nearly through the veil that separates sanity and the madness that lies A young, ambitious medical student is approached by a wrinkled old man with a yellow face who claims he is looking for someone to leave his fortune to upon his death.

There are conditions, though: Wells, available at The University of Adelaide Library. I was born at Trentham, in Staffordshire. I was orphaned soon after my birth, and was brought up by my uncle George Eden. He educated me generously and fired my ambition to succeed in the world. At his death, four years ago, he left me his entire fortune, the sum of five hundred pounds. In that year of grace, , a not inconsiderable sum. I became a medical student at University College, London.

I lodged at 11A University Street. At the time of the beginning of my story, I was taking a pair of shoes to be mended at a shop in the Tottenham Court Road A writer stays with his cousin at a rural vicarage while he finishes writing his book: Until then, I mean apart from her quite striking natural beauty, she had seemed as common place a rural-type as one would expect a young widow named Mrs Bert Smiff to be. Yes, I said Mrs Bert Smiff. A score of villagers, dozens of hamlets, could no doubt have matched her with more than comely young matronly women of just her kind of breeding.

How could I know when first I arrived at the parsonage of Little Haberthatch that this lady would provide me with the strangest, most inexplicable experience of my entire life? The happenings of that summer are still unexplained. There is no answer, at least not one that would satisfy a gentleman of science. Three summer weeks I intended to spend at Little Haberthatch. On the third day, the mystery of Mrs Smiff began, and the events did not reach their frightening conclusion until twenty days had passed.

And on that twentieth day it was long Down-and-out Mr Robinson, with less than a shilling in his pocket, hires on as a clerk at the Sailor's Rest, a decrepit inn run by the expansive Mrs Ambrose Manifold. But there's something odd about Mrs Manifold. Rumour has it she once ran a highly successful inn in Singapore before she skipped out.

But, perhaps I would. A man with less than a shilling in his pocket and little chance to [enter] that can't hesitate too much. Still, there was something about Mrs Manifold, something you could 'feel' but hardly put into words. I never saw anyone so fat.

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Though she was a short woman, she weighed over pounds. It was easy to understand why she preferred to keep to her own room on the fourth floor. Oh, I can see her now And to this day I cannot abide the smell of Madeira wine. An oft-hated, up-and-coming executive in the food market business, Burton Grunzer, aged 35, is approached by the secretary of a voluntary-service group called Society for United Action. The members of this organization are engaged in a spot of coordinated 'anthropological psychiatry' Has he ever, for example, personally wished someone dead?

A man's worth can be judged by the calibre of his enemies. Burton Grunzer had encountered the phrase in a pocket-sized biography purchased at a newstand just before the train left the station. Darkness silvered the glass and gave him nothing to look at but his own image. How many people were enemies of that face, of the eyes narrowed by a myopic squint denied by vanity the correction of spectacles, of the nose, he secretly called patrician, of the mouth, it was hard, unrelenting Oh, I've got a lot of enemies.

I'm rich in enemies. Some of them are twenty-four-carat. Newlyweds Laura and Harry—writer and painter—move to a secluded cottage in the country. Their housekeeper, well-versed in local folklore, tells them the grey marble knights stretched out beside the altar in a nearby Norman church had once been fierce, wicked men—marauders by land and sea—who now come to life each All Saints' Eve and roam the land. Nesbit, available at Project Gutenberg, Australia. Nowadays, a rational explanation is required before belief is possible. Let me at once, then, offer a rational explanation. It is held that Harry and Laura Inness were under a delusion on that 31st of October, and that this supposition places the whole matter on a satisfactory and believable basis.

But there were three who took part in the events of the 31st. The other man still lives and can speak to the truth of the least credible part of Harry's story. October the 31st; it began like any other last day of the month, and progressed into terror, as it moved An Indian Fakir, a very holy man, put a spell on a desiccated monkey's paw many years ago to show that Fate rules our lives and those who interfere with it do so to their sorrow.

The spell allows three separate men to each have three wishes from it. The monkey's paw has now come into the possession of Mr White and his family. A classic tale which has been produced many times. See the Famous Authors on Radio page for more details. Jacobs, available at Project Gutenberg. But in the small parlour of Lakesnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were playing chess. The former, who played a revolutionary game was putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

They were the principle actors in this drama of 'The Monkey's Paw'. As were the already mentioned lady and a certain Sergeant-Major Morris who was due to visit Lakesnam Villa on this darkest of nights, when the gods showed their displeasure with the world by drenching it with the cold rain of winter. And with the Sergeant-Major's visit the three inhabitants of the villa moved forward into the terrors that lie It was ruled self-defence.

Nobody liked it, but everybody agreed it was self-defence. Everybody except Stoney's eldest son, Verge. Verge thinks it was cold-blooded murder and he aims to get revenge As Verge Likens, Stoney's eldest boy said, 'Daddy didn't have no gun on him.

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So I just can't see no fair reason for Mr McGraw shooting him'. An aspiring journalist, Raymond Hewson, seeks to make a name for himself by successfully spending the night amongst the wax murderer's at Mariner's Waxworks and publishing the account. A teleplay was also produced for Alfred Hitchcock Presents The uniformed attendants, glad that another day's work was over, were locking up. On the second floor of the old grey building, the manager, a stout blonde man of smart appearance, was talking to one Raymond Hewson who looked anything but smart.

His clothes, although good once, were showing distinct signs of their owner's losing battle with the world. Alice is convinced that her newborn baby is trying to kill her: Day after day this goes on. Sometimes Alice can hear him moving about the house, but when she looks in on him, he is always in his crib staring It's enough to drive anyone mad. Sharp instruments hovered, and there were voices and people in sterile, white masks.

Why didn't you come, David? Why didn't you come? Try, try, try, I won't die. After seven long years, actress Laura Laine has finally made it—she is a now a star to be followed. The press are downstairs, the music is thumping, and the party is in full swing, yet year old Laura lingers in her dressing room, pausing to gather the strength needed to face the reporters Enter, stage left, Laura Laine's thought-to-be-dead husband, who just happens to know her secret. She was sitting at her dressing table, still only half dressed. She had been dreaming. In her dream, she had been in front of the camera and the eye of the camera had slowly turned into George's eye and winked at her.

A slow, maliciously-knowing wink, that had been George's trademark in Burlesque George had been dead for 5 years and she only dreamed about him when she was very tired, as she was now. So tired, she dozed off in the middle of changing for the party that was going on downstairs.

Laura [Laine], star of "Star-Crossed Love", premiered that night, the night of the party. She didn't know how could she? The episode I have with this title is the actually "Vulture People". A pair of sisters accompany their father, the Reverend Maydew, to a rural parsonage, where they become enamoured of an old brick house located in a narrow glen named Brickett Bottom.

The house has been occupied by Colonel Paxton and his wife for many years. When Alice the younger daughter hurts her ankle, Maggie the elder visits the Paxtons and strikes up a friendship with the very charming Mrs Paxton. The only problem is that none of the locals have ever seen the house or heard of the Paxtons. He was also a student and a man of no strong physique. So that when an opportunity was presented to him to take a holiday by exchanging his parsonage in a sprawling, dark industrial town, with the country living of another clergyman in the sunlit south, he was very glad to avail himself of it.

Arthur Maydew had two daughters: Both these girls rejoiced at the prospect of a period of quiet and rest in the pleasant country neighbourhood of Overbury. But their dreams were shattered.

From the gentle green acres, the Maydew sisters passed into the dark regions of terror that lie Lost on the lonely moors of Northern England, a hunter seeks shelter in the manor of an eccentric recluse. The recluse, a long-forgotten scientist, grudgingly welcomes the hunter for supper and then embarks on an evening of philosophical ramblings. Eager to reach his wife waiting at home though, the hunter interrupts the evening and seeks the Crossroads where he might catch a lift on the mail coach.

Edwards, available at Project Gutenberg, Australia. During the last few days of the season he made several trips across the northern moors, after the elusive and soon-to-be-prohibited birds. December, the wind was due east; the moors were bleak and wild. On his last expedition, the very day before the ending of the season, James Murray became hopelessly lost.

The first feathery flakes of the coming snow storm fluttered down upon the heather and a leaden evening was closing in all around. The purple moorland melted into a range of low hills. There was not the faintest smoke-wreath. Not the smallest cultivated patch, or fence, or sheep-track.

The world had changed. Murray shouldered his gun and pushed wearily forward on and beyond The episode I have with this title is the actually "The Phantom Coach". It is quite likely that this is actually the same story as "The Honeymooners". Jane Brooks is startled when her dustbin lid flies off and lands a couple of metres away.

But surprise gradually gives way to alarm, fright and, eventually, terror when neither Jane nor her husband, James, can find evidence of natural causes—no people hanging about Whatever it is, is very, very fast. Eventually a hunter friend hits on the idea of rigging up cameras and trip wires to take some photographs. James Brooks was his name. He had been in South Africa for three years.

Leaving England on an impulse, England and the girl-friend, he had come to seek his fortune in a city called Johannesburg that was said to be made of gold. Within a month he had decided he might as well have stayed in Sheffield, for there was nothing 'African' about Johannesburg. Then the city got under his skin and he saved and bought a small car and began to go on weekend safaris to the Hartebeestpoort Dam, and once he even drove to Durban. He wrote four times a week to a girl called Jane, and when she finally left Southampton University with an upper Second or a lower First or something in History, she flew from a grey United Kingdom into the hard, bright sunlight of Jan Smuts Airport.

By this time, he had rented a cottage at a place called Kyalami, where they race motorcars. Livermore National Laboratory, California. An accident involving a highly-classified project results in serious radiation poisoning of a civilian truck driver. Secret notes are read and passed about It's all very hush-hush, and I really can't say any more about it. I'm in the administration building. There are two security officers here with a patient.

Beyond Midnight - (11 Mp3 downloads available)

Oh, just a minute, sir. We have a highly classified emergency on our hands and we need you, Commander, immediately! Socialite Rupert Orange lived with his aunt in New York till he was twenty-four years old, and when she died, leaving her entire estate to him, a furious contest arose over her will. The Court declared that the old lady had died lunatic; that she had been unduly influenced; and, that consequently her testament was void.

So began the fall of Rupert Orange from opulence to poverty Whatever became of Rupert Orange? At every society party in London, in New York, anywhere, such a question was once asked frequently, now not so often. Soon it will never be asked again, because people forget people. Public figures fade into insignificance, great stars of the stage and screen are forgotten all to easily, and heroes we might owe our lives to could die in rags for all we care, within a few short years of their exploits.

Rupert Orange was no hero, of course, he starred on no stage, although he was at one time a familiar figure at London first nights, and would never have dreamt of attending if a box had not been available. A box meant a beautiful woman, and whether the play was good or bad, the evening required food and wine at its end. Rupert Orange blazed like a comet for a few short, brilliant years, but when his name slipped from memory in the early 30s, there were precious few to mourn a man who had gone forever A sheriff, fed up with hanging innocent people and disgusted with the unfair trial a young artist is receiving, swears he will never hang another man.

Plot Spot - Beyond Midnight

Instead, he slips the accused six hacksaw blades and provides a foolproof plan of escape. Sometimes, however, things don't go according to plan. Title not provided by Springbok Radio and as yet unverified. I only ask you to bear in mind that this creature, Burke, is on trial, charged with the most brutal murder ever committed in this county, the most brutal it has ever been my duty to present to a jury. Now, I'm not going to keep you much longer, but whenever possible, I prefer to present my cases His voice rose and fell like an old-fashioned Shakespearean actor's.

The little courtroom, sweltering and airless in the July heat had taken on the unreal blur of something experienced in a nightmare, or seen through the walls of an aquarium. He knew now that he would hang. A reclusive millionaire builds an isolated mansion to secure his privacy and keep the world out In this tale, there is nothing outwardly ghostly.

It is a story of unease, and we challenge you to make your radio set silent without listening all the way to 'Short Circuit'. Sir Dominick Sarsfield inherits an estate—one of the finest in Ireland—but spends much of his time drinking, dicing, racing, and playing cards. In a few short years the estate is in debt and Sir Dominick is a distressed man on the brink of suicide. There doesn't seem to be a viable alternative, until he receives an offer After all this time the name's still there.

Could a place like this ever be built up again, I wonder? Christmas season—a season for large gatherings and childish games in sprawling country houses.

Fourteen young adults decide to play a game of smee a variation on hide-and-seek , played in the dark with unexpected results. The house is large; the hiding places, obscure. Has everyone been found? It's a game, something like go-hide-and-seek. They played it that night at the Sangston's. Just an ordinary game, Smee. Great fun at Christmas. An ordinary Christmas, that is. But there was nothing ordinary about that Christmas night. Their delight with their new home wanes, however, and tensions rise as Kate becomes convinced that someone—or something—is watching her Returning home late one night, Justus Ancorwen is confronted by his worst nightmare—a huge spider lurking beside his drawing-room door.

He makes a run for it and barely escapes to the corridor outside his flat, but doesn't know where to turn for help in the middle of the night. He chooses Isabel Bishop—a woman who lives just upstairs A magazine writer specializing in cozy chats, preferably with titled persons. Lived in a flat. An expensive flat, directly below a lady by the name of Isabel Bishop. Used to pay court to Isabel. Cut her out of his life. Justus Ancorwen, self-satisfied, a glutton for good food.

Always avoided bread and potatoes because of his figure. Justus Ancorwen, all his life an unreasoning fear of Since childhood, Justus had dreaded that a spider might get on him, it's eight legs running up his flesh. He was convinced that he would die if one of the bent-legged brutes should as much as touch him. The very thought of the spider was enough to plunge Justus into the abyss The romance of a log fire entices an old man to reminisce with his grandson about a ball he once attended It was long ago and life was simpler then.

And the ball was held at Campion's. An invitation to a ball at Campion's and you were set for the whole year Then again, there is the tale which seems gentle enough, a story of normal happy people, recognizable scenes and not until the very end, indeed not until the last minute or so, does it become apparent that something is very, very wrong.

My play tonight falls into this later category. Young Alexander Tavert, visiting his uncle in the Shetland Isles, discovers strange symbols in a disused passageway and begins to fear for the lives of himself and a female visitor when evidence suggests his uncle's allegiances might have a dark undertone. I-I hope you'll not mind me calling you 'uncle'. After all, I know it's only by marriage. They all called [me] uncle—your father's full brother, Elsie, Norma, Matilda, Edna, and all their sisters, all called me uncle. Well, take yer bag, pick up yer feet, we've a fair walk. The house is set well back.

I built every brick of her with my own hands, and I completed the whole building and the barn without another man's hands to help me, inside of three years. I was 27 when I went to stay with my uncle [Foylan] in the [Shetland Isles]. He was a recluse, a one-time minister of the old kirk. A man who had become disillusioned with his god for some reason. A man who'd had three wives and never an heir to his name. My first impressions when the launch had dumped me on that desolate shore full of seagull cryings, [bladderweed], shells, and my father's half-brother as big as a barn, are difficult to recall after the passage of years, but I do know that for some strange reason I couldn't fathom, I felt a kind of awe that was not far removed from fear.

I turned and watched the launch, but she was already a quarter of a mile out towards the mainland again. I shook uncle [Foylan's] great hand, and so began the most terrifying weeks of my life. Local headmen complain to the Kenyan government in Nairobi that a renegade herd of elephants jumbos is destroying their crops and damaging their shambas. Two young hunters are hired to thin the herd, but they cannot find it—it seems to be hiding. Desperate, they ask a local witch doctor for help. He agrees to tell them where the herd is As their relationship grows, Cary and Keith unbox an antique radio from her mother's attic, only to discover that holding on to the item holds dire consequences.

Written by Mark A. Visit Prime Video to explore more titles. Find showtimes, watch trailers, browse photos, track your Watchlist and rate your favorite movies and TV shows on your phone or tablet! Keep track of everything you watch; tell your friends. Full Cast and Crew. After meeting Keith, Cary's life changes as she Clark IV , Mark France. Share this Rating Title: Use the HTML below. You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin. Photos Add Image Add an image Do you have any images for this title? Edit Cast Credited cast: Cary Meadows Jeff Priskorn