A CHRISTMAS CAROL (IN PROSE BEING, A Ghost Story of Christmas)<\/p>\n
by Charles Dickens<\/p>\n
(OCF editing – Part 19)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
STAVE IV:\u00a0 THE LAST OF THE SPIRITS<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n THE Phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. When<\/strong><\/p>\n it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in<\/strong><\/p>\n the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to<\/strong><\/p>\n scatter gloom and mystery.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed<\/strong><\/p>\n its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible<\/strong><\/p>\n save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been<\/strong><\/p>\n difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it<\/strong><\/p>\n from the darkness by which it was surrounded.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside<\/strong><\/p>\n him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a<\/strong><\/p>\n solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither<\/strong><\/p>\n spoke nor moved.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To<\/strong><\/p>\n Come?” said Scrooge.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its<\/strong><\/p>\n hand.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “You are about to show me shadows of the things that<\/strong><\/p>\n have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,”<\/strong><\/p>\n Scrooge pursued. “Is that so, Spirit?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an<\/strong><\/p>\n instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head.<\/strong><\/p>\n That was the only answer he received.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n Although well used to ghostly company by this time,<\/strong><\/p>\n Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled<\/strong><\/p>\n beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when<\/strong><\/p>\n he prepared to follow it. The Spirit paused a moment, as<\/strong><\/p>\n observing his condition, and giving him time to recover.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him<\/strong><\/p>\n with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the<\/strong><\/p>\n dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon<\/strong><\/p>\n him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost,<\/strong><\/p>\n could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap<\/strong><\/p>\n of black.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Ghost of the Future!” he exclaimed, “I fear you more<\/strong><\/p>\n than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose<\/strong><\/p>\n is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another<\/strong><\/p>\n man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company,<\/strong><\/p>\n and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak<\/strong><\/p>\n to me?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight<\/strong><\/p>\n before them.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Lead on!” said Scrooge. “Lead on! The night is<\/strong><\/p>\n waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead<\/strong><\/p>\n on, Spirit!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him.<\/strong><\/p>\n Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him<\/strong><\/p>\n up, he thought, and carried him along.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather<\/strong><\/p>\n seemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its<\/strong><\/p>\n own act. But there they were, in the heart of it; on<\/strong><\/p>\n ‘Change, amongst the merchants; who hurried up and down,<\/strong><\/p>\n and chinked the money in their pockets, and conversed in<\/strong><\/p>\n groups, and looked at their watches, and trifled thoughtfully<\/strong><\/p>\n with their great gold seals; and so forth, as Scrooge had<\/strong><\/p>\n seen them often.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men.<\/strong><\/p>\n Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge<\/strong><\/p>\n advanced to listen to their talk.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “No,” said a great fat man with a monstrous chin, “I<\/strong><\/p>\n don’t know much about it, either way. I only know he’s<\/strong><\/p>\n dead.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “When did he die?” inquired another.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Last night, I believe.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Why, what was the matter with him?” asked a third,<\/strong><\/p>\n taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff-box.<\/strong><\/p>\n “I thought he’d never die.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “God knows,” said the first, with a yawn.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “What has he done with his money?” asked a red-faced<\/strong><\/p>\n gentleman with a pendulous excrescence on the end of his<\/strong><\/p>\n nose, that shook like the gills of a turkey-cock.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “I haven’t heard,” said the man with the large chin,<\/strong><\/p>\n yawning again. “Left it to his company, perhaps. He hasn’t<\/strong><\/p>\n left it to me. That’s all I know.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n This pleasantry was received with a general laugh.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “It’s likely to be a very cheap funeral,” said the same<\/strong><\/p>\n speaker; “for upon my life I don’t know of anybody to go<\/strong><\/p>\n to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “I don’t mind going if a lunch is provided,” observed the<\/strong><\/p>\n gentleman with the excrescence on his nose. “But I must<\/strong><\/p>\n be fed, if I make one.”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n Another laugh.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n “Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all,”<\/strong><\/p>\n said the first speaker, “for I never wear black gloves, and I<\/strong><\/p>\n never eat lunch. But I’ll offer to go, if anybody else will.<\/strong><\/p>\n When I come to think of it, I’m not at all sure that I wasn’t<\/strong><\/p>\n his most particular friend; for we used to stop and speak<\/strong><\/p>\n whenever we met. Bye, bye!”<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n Speakers and listeners strolled away, and mixed with<\/strong><\/p>\n other groups. Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards the<\/strong><\/p>\n Spirit for an explanation.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Phantom glided on into a street. Its finger pointed<\/strong><\/p>\n to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking<\/strong><\/p>\n that the explanation might lie here.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n He knew these men, also, perfectly. They were men of business:<\/strong><\/p>\n very wealthy, and of great importance. He had made a point<\/strong><\/p>\n