The Judge's House
by Bram Stoker
retold by Rosemary Border
1
It was April and John Moore was studying for an
important examination. As the date of the exam came
nearer, he decided to go somewhere and read by himself. He
did not want the amusements of the seaside, or the beauties
of the countryside. He decided to find a quiet, ordinary little
town and work there undisturbed. He packed his suitcases
with clothes and books. Then he looked in a railway
timetable for a town that he did not know. He found one,
and bought a ticket to go there. He did not tell anyone
where he was going. After all, he did not want to be
disturbed.
That is how Moore arrived at Benchurch. It was a market
town, and once a week it was quite busy for a few hours.
The rest of the time it was a very quiet, sleepy little place.
Moore spent his first night at the only hotel in the town. The
landlady was very kind and helpful, but the hotel was not
really quiet enough for him. The second day he started
looking for a house to rent.
There was only one place that he liked. It was more than
quiet - it was deserted and very lonely. It was a big, old
seventeenth-century house. It had tiny windows like a
prison, and a high brick wall all round it. It would be hard
to imagine a more unwelcoming place. But it suited Moore
perfectly. He went to find the local lawyer, who was
responsible for the house.
Mr Carnford, the lawyer, was very happy to rent the
house to him.
`I'd be glad to let you have it free,' he said, `just to have
somebody living in it again after all these years. It's been
empty so long that people have spread a lot of foolish stories
about it. You'll be able to prove that the stories are wrong.'
Moore did not think it was necessary to ask the lawyer for
more details of the `foolish stories'. He paid his rent, and
Mr Carnford gave him the name of an old servant to look
after him. He came away from the lawyer's office with the
keys of the house in his pocket. He then went to Mrs Wood,
the landlady of the hotel.
`I'm renting a house for a few weeks,' he said. `Can you
advise me about shopping, please? What do you think I shall
need?'
`Where are you going to stay, sir?' the landlady asked.
Moore told her.
She threw up her hands in horror. `Not the Judge's
House!' she said, and she grew pale as she spoke.
He asked her to tell him more about the house. `Why is it
called the Judge's House?' he said, `and why doesn't anyone
want to live in it?'
2
`Well, sir,' she said, `a long time ago - no, I don't
know how long - a judge lived there. He was a
hard, cruel judge, sir - a real hanging judge. He showed no
mercy to anyone. But as for the house itself - well, I can't
say. I've often asked, but nobody could tell me for certain.'
She found it hard to explain. The general feeling in the town
was that there was something strange about the Judge's
House. `As for me, sir,' she said, `I won't stay there alone,
not for all the money in the bank!'
Then she apologized to Moore. `I'm sorry to worry you,
sir, really I am. But if you were my son I wouldn't let you
stay there one night on your own. I'd go there myself and
pull the big alarm bell that's on the roof!'
Moore was grateful for her kindness and her anxiety.
`How good of you to be so anxious about me, Mrs Wood!'
he said. `But there's really no need to worry. I'm studying
for an important examination and I have no time for
horrors or mysteries.'
The landlady kindly promised to do his shopping for him.
Moore then went to see the old servant whom Mr Carnford
had recommended to him. Her name was Mrs Dempster,
and she seemed pleasant and eager to please her new master.
When he returned with her to the Judge's House two
hours later, he found Mrs Wood waiting outside it. She had
several people with her - men and boys carrying parcels,
and another two men with a bed.
`But there are beds in the house!' cried Moore in surprise.
`And nobody's slept in them for fifty years or more! No,
sir, I won't let you risk your life in an old, damp bed.'
The landlady was obviously curious to see the inside of
the house. At the same time she was clearly afraid. At the
smallest noise she held nervously to Moore's arm. Together
they explored the whole house. After his exploration,
Moore decided to live in the dining-room. It was big enough
for both working and sleeping. Mrs Wood and Mrs
Dempster began to arrange everything. Soon the baskets
were unpacked. Moore saw that kind Mrs Wood had
brought many good things from her own kitchen. Before she
left she turned to Moore and said, `I do hope you will be all
right, sir. But I must say - I couldn't sleep here, with all
those ghosts!'
When she left, Mrs Dempster laughed. `Ghosts!' she said.
`Ghosts! There are no ghosts! There are rats and insects, and
doors that need oiling. There are windows that blow open in
the wind. . . Look at the old oak walls of this room, sir.
They are old - hundreds of years old! Don't you think
there'll be rats and insects behind the wood? You'll see
plenty of rats here, sir, but you won't see any ghosts - I'm
sure of that. Now you go and have a nice walk, sir. And
when you come back, I'll have this room all ready for you.'
She kept her promise. When Moore returned he found the
room clean and neat. A fire was burning in the ancient
fireplace. She had lit the lamp and put his supper ready on
the table.
`Good night, sir,' she said. `I have to go now and get my
husband's supper. I'll see you in the morning.'
`This is wonderful!' said Moore to himself as he ate Mrs
Dempster's excellent food. When he had finished his supper,
he pushed the dishes to the other end of the table. He put
more wood on the fire and began to study.
3
Moore worked without stopping until about eleven
o'clock. Then he put some more wood on the fire.
He also made a pot of tea. He was enjoying himself very
much. The fire was burning brightly. The firelight danced on
the old oak walls and threw strange shadows around the
room. His tea tasted excellent, and there was nobody to
disturb him. Then for the first time he noticed how much
noise the rats were making.
`Were they making all this noise while I was studying?' he
thought. `No, I don't think they were. Perhaps they were
afraid of me at first. Now they have become braver, and
they are running about as usual.'
How busy they were! And what a lot of noise they made!
Up and down they rushed, behind the old oak walls, over
the ceiling and under the floor. Moore remembered Mrs
Dempster's words: `You'll see plenty of rats, but you won't
see any ghosts.' `Well,' he said with a smile, `she was right
about the rats, anyway!'
He picked up the lamp and looked around the room.
`How strange,' he said to himself. `Why doesn't anybody
want to live in this beautiful old house?' The oak walls were
very beautiful. There were some old pictures on the walls,
but they were covered with dust and dirt and he could not
see them clearly. Here and there he saw small holes in
the walls. From time to time the curious face of a rat stared
at him. Then with a scratch and a squeak, it was gone.
The thing that interested him most, however, was the
rope of the great alarm bell on the roof. The rope hung
down in a corner of the room on the right-hand side of the
fireplace. He found a huge, high-backed oak chair and
pulled it up beside the fire. There he sat and drank his last
cup of tea. Then he put more wood on the fire and sat down
at the table again with his books. For a time the rats
disturbed him with their scratching and squeaking. But he
got used to the noise, and soon he forgot everything except
his work.
Suddenly he looked up. Something had disturbed him, but
he did not know what it was. He sat up and listened. The
room was silent. That was it! The noise of the rats had
stopped. `That's what disturbed me!' said Moore with a
smile. He looked around the room - and saw an enormous
rat. It was sitting on the great high-backed chair by the fire,
and it was staring at him with hate in its small red eyes.
Moore picked up a book and pretended to throw it. But the
rat did not move. It showed its great white teeth angrily, and
its cruel eyes shone mercilessly in the lamplight.
`Why, you -' cried Moore. He picked up the poker from
the fireplace and jumped up. Before he could hit the rat,
however, it jumped to the floor with a squeak. It ran up the
rope of the alarm bell and disappeared in the darkness.
Strangely, the squeaks and scratches of the rats in the walls
began again.
By this time Moore no longer felt like working. Outside
the house the birds were singing: soon it would be morning.
He climbed into bed and immediately fell asleep.
4
He slept so deeply that he did not hear Mrs Dempster
come in. She dusted the room and made his breakfast.
Then she woke him with a cup of tea.
After breakfast he put a book in his pocket and went out
for a walk. On the way he bought a few sandwiches. (`Then
I shan't have to stop for lunch,' he said to himself). He
found a pretty, quiet little park and spent most of the day
there, studying. On his way home he called at the hotel to
thank Mrs Wood for her kindness. She looked at him
searchingly.
`You must not work too hard, sir. You look pale this
morning. Too much studying isn't good for anyone. But tell
me, sir, did you have a good night? Mrs Dempster told me
you were still asleep when she went in.'
`Oh, I was all right,' said Moore with a smile. `The ghosts
haven't troubled me yet. But the rats had a party last night!
There was one old devil with red eyes. He sat up on the chair
by the fire. He didn't move until I picked up the poker. Then
he ran up the rope of the alarm bell. I didn't see where he
went. It was too dark.'
`Dear God!' cried Mrs Wood, `an old devil sitting by the
fire! Take care, sir, take care.'
`What do you mean?' asked Moore in surprise.
`An old devil! The old devil, perhaps.' Moore started to
laugh.
`Please forgive me, Mrs Wood,' he said at last. `I just
couldn't help laughing at the idea of the Devil himself sitting
by my fire . . . ' And he began to laugh again. Then he went
home for dinner.
There, in the Judge's chair, sat the rat, staring at him with hate in its small red eyes.
That evening the noise of the rats began earlier. After
dinner he sat down beside the fire and drank his tea. Then he
sat down at the table and started to work again.
The rats disturbed him more than the previous night.
They scratched and squeaked and ran about, and stared at
him from the holes in the walls. Their eyes shone like tiny
lamps in the firelight. But Moore was becoming used to
them. They seemed playful rather than aggressive. Sometimes
the bravest rats ran out onto the floor or across the
tops of the pictures. Now and again, when they disturbed
him, Moore shook his papers at them. They ran to their
holes at once. And so the early part of the night passed quite
quietly.
Moore worked hard for several hours.
All at once he was disturbed by a sudden silence. There
was not a sound of running, or scratching, or squeaking.
The huge room was as silent as the grave. Moore remembered
the previous night. He looked at the chair by the fireside -
and got a terrible shock. There, on the great high-backed
oak chair, sat the same enormous rat. It was staring at him
with hate.
Without thinking, Moore picked up the nearest book and
threw it. It missed, and the rat did not move. So Moore
again picked up the poker. Again the rat ran up the rope of
the alarm bell. And once more the other rats started their
scratching and squeaking. Moore was unable to see where
the rat had gone. The light of the lamp did not reach as far
as the high ceiling, and the fire had burned low.
Moore looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. He
put more wood on the fire and made a pot of tea. Then he
sat down in the great oak chair by the fire and enjoyed his
tea.
`I wonder where that old rat went just now,' he thought. `I
must buy a rat trap in the morning.' He lit another lamp. He
placed it so that it would shine into the right-hand corner of
the wall by the fireplace. He got several books ready to
throw at the creature. Finally he lifted the rope of the alarm
bell. He put it on the table and fixed the end of it under the
lamp.
As he handled the rope, Moore noticed how pliable it
was. `You could hang a man with it,' he thought. Then he
stood back and admired his preparations.
`There, my friend,' he said aloud, `I think I'll learn your
secret this time!'
He started work again, and was soon lost in his studies.
But once again he was disturbed by a sudden silence. Then
the bell rope moved a little, and the lamp on top of the rope
moved too. Moore made sure that his books were ready for
throwing. Then he looked along the rope. As he looked, the
great rat dropped from the rope onto the old oak chair. It
sat there staring at him angrily. He picked up a book and
aimed it at the rat. The creature jumped cleverly to one side.
Moore threw another book, but without success. Then, as
Moore stood with a third book in his hand, ready to throw,
the rat squeaked and seemed to be afraid. Moore threw the
book and it hit the rat's side. With a squeak of pain and fear,
and a look of real hate, it ran up the back of the chair and
made a great jump onto the rope of the alarm bell. It ran up
the rope like lightning, while the heavy lamp shook with its
desperate speed. Moore watched the rat carefully. By the
light of the second lamp, he saw it disappear through a hole
in one of the great pictures on the wall.
`I shall check my unpleasant little visitor's home in the
morning,' said Moore to himself as he picked up his books
from the floor. `The third picture from the fireplace: I shan't
forget.' He examined the books. He picked up the third
book that he had thrown. `This is the one that hurt him!' he
said to himself. Then his face turned pale. `Why - it's my
mother's old Bible! How strange!' He sat down to work
again, and once more the rats in the walls started their noise.
This did not worry him. Compared with the huge rat, these
ones seemed almost friendly. But he could not work. At last
he closed his books and went to bed. The first red light of
morning was shining through the window as he closed his
eyes.
5
He slept heavily but uneasily, and he had unpleasant
dreams. Then Mrs Dempster woke him as usual with
a cup of tea, and he felt better. But his first request to her
surprised the old servant very much. `Mrs Dempster, while
I'm out today, will you please dust or wash those pictures -
particularly the third one from the fireplace. I want to see
what they are.'
Again Moore spent most of the day studying happily in
the park. On his way home he again visited Mrs Wood at
the hotel. She had a visitor with her in her comfortable
sitting-room.
`Sir,' said the landlady, `this is Doctor Thornhill.'
As soon as she had introduced them, the doctor began to
ask Moore a great many questions. `I'm sure,' said Moore to
himself, `that the good doctor did not call here by accident.'
He turned to Doctor Thornhill.
`Doctor, I'll gladly answer all your questions, if you'll just
answer one of mine.'
The doctor seemed surprised, but he agreed at once.
`Did Mrs Wood ask you to come here and advise me?'
asked Moore. The doctor looked surprised. Mrs Wood's
face turned very red and she looked away. But the doctor
was an honest, friendly man, and he answered quickly, `She
did, but she didn't want you to know. She's worried about
you. She, doesn't like you staying there all alone, and she
thinks you study too hard and drink too much strong tea.
She asked me to give you some good advice. I was once a
student too, you know, so I know what I'm talking about.'
Moore smiled and held out his hand to Doctor Thornhill.
`I must thank you for your kindness - and you too, Mrs
Wood. I promise to take no more strong tea, and I'll be in
bed by one o'clock. There, will that please you both?'
`Very much,' said Doctor Thornhill. `Now tell us all
about that old house.'
Moore told them all about the events of the previous
nights. When he told them how he had thrown the Bible,
Mrs Wood gave a little scream. When Moore had finished
his story, Doctor Thornhill looked very serious.
`The rat always ran up the rope of the alarm bell?' he
asked.
`Always.'
`I suppose you know,' said the doctor, `what the rope is?'
`No, I don't,' said Moore.
`It is the hangman's rope,' said the doctor. `After the judge
condemned someone to death, the unfortunate man was
hanged with that rope.' Mrs Wood gave another scream.
The doctor went to fetch her a glass of water. When he
returned, he looked hard at Moore. `Listen, young man,' he
said. `If anything happens to you tonight, don't hesitate to
ring the alarm bell. I shall be working quite late tonight too,
and I'll keep my ears open. Now don't forget!'
Moore laughed. `I'm sure I shan't need to do that!' he
said, and went home for his dinner.
`I don't like that young man's story,' said Doctor
Thornhill after Moore had left. `Perhaps he imagined most
of it. All the same, I'll listen tonight for the alarm bell.
Perhaps we'll reach him in time to help him.'
6
When Moore arrived home, Mrs Dempster had
already left. But his supper was ready for him. The
lamp was burning brightly and there was a good fire in the
fireplace. It was a cold, windy evening, but the room was
warm and inviting. For a few minutes after he came in, the
rats were quiet. But, as before, they soon became used to his
presence in the room. Soon they started their noise again.
He was glad to hear them. He remembered how silent they
had been when the great rat appeared. Moore soon forgot
the squeaking and scratching. He sat down to his dinner
with a light heart. After dinner he opened his books,
determined to get some work done.
For an hour or two he worked very well. Then his
concentration weakened, and he looked up. It was a stormy
night. The whole house seemed to shake, and the wind
whistled down the chimneys with a strange, unnatural
sound. The force of the wind shook the alarm bell. The
pliable rope rose and fell a little, and the bottom of it hit
the
oak floor with a hard and hollow sound.
As Moore watched it, he remembered the doctor's words:
`It's the hangman's rope.' He went over to the corner by the
fireplace and took the rope in his hand. He looked at it very
hard. He wondered how many people had died on the end
of that rope. As he held it, the movement of the bell on the
roof still lifted it now and again. Then he felt a new
movement. The rope seemed to tremble, as if something was
moving along it. At the same time, the noise of the rats
stopped.
Moore looked up, and saw the great rat coming down
towards him. It was staring at him with hate. Moore
dropped the rope and jumped back with a cry. The rat
turned, ran up the rope again and disappeared. At the same
moment Moore realized that the noise of the other rats had
begun again.
`Very well, my friend,' thought Moore, `let's investigate
your hiding place.'
He lit the other lamp. He remembered that the rat had
disappeared inside the third picture on the right. He picked
up the lamp and carried it across to the picture.
He almost dropped the lamp. He stepped back at once,
and the sweat of fear was upon his pale face. His knees
shook. His whole body trembled like a leaf. But he was
young and brave, and he moved forward again with his
lamp. Mrs Dempster had dusted and washed the picture,
and Moore could now see it quite clearly.
It showed a judge. He had a cruel, clever, merciless face,
with a big curved nose and very bright, hard eyes. As Moore
looked into those eyes, he realized that he had seen that look
before. The great rat's eyes were exactly the same. They held
the same look of hate and cruelty. Then the noise of the rats
stopped again, and Moore became conscious of another pair
of eyes looking at him. The great rat was staring at him from
the hole in the corner of the picture. But Moore took no
notice of the creature and continued to examine the picture.
The Judge was sitting in a great, high-backed oak chair,
on the right-hand side of a great stone fireplace. In the
corner a rope hung down from the ceiling. With a feeling of
horror, Moore recognized the room where he now stood.
He looked around him, as if he expected to see another
presence there. Then he looked across to the corner of the
fireplace. He froze with fear and the lamp fell from his
trembling hand.
There, in the Judge's chair, sat the rat. The rope hung
behind, exactly as it did in the picture. The rat looked at
Moore with the same merciless stare as the Judge in the
picture. But there was a new, triumphant look in the small
red eyes. Everything was silent except for the storm outside.
`The lamp!' thought Moore desperately. Fortunately it
was a metal one, and the oil had not caught fire. However,
he had to put it out. In doing so, he forgot his fears for a
moment.
Then he stopped and thought. `I can't go on like this,' he
said to himself. `The doctor is right. Late hours and strong
tea are no good for me. They just make me nervous.
However, I'm all right now.' He made himself a warm,
milky drink and sat down to work.
Nearly an hour later a sudden silence disturbed him
again. Outside, the storm was growling and whistling as
loudly as ever. The rain drummed on the windows. But
inside the house everything was as quiet as the grave. Moore
listened carefully, and then he heard a strange squeaking
noise. It came from the corner of the room where the rope
hung down. At first he thought the rope itself was making
the sound. Then he looked up and saw the great rat. It was
chewing the rope with its ugly yellow teeth. It had almost
bitten through it, and, as Moore watched, part of the rope
fell to the floor. Only a short piece was still attached to the
bell, and the rat was still hanging onto it. Now the rope
began to swing backwards and forwards. Moore felt a
moment of terrible fear. `Now I can never ring the alarm
bell,' he thought. Then he was filled with anger. He picked
up the book he was reading, and threw it violently at the rat.
He aimed it well. But before the book could hit the creature,
it dropped off the rope and landed on the floor. At once
Moore rushed towards it, but the rat ran away and
disappeared into the shadows.
`Let's have another rat hunt before bed!' said Moore to
himself. He picked up the lamp - and almost dropped it
again.
The figure of the Judge had disappeared from the picture.
The chair and the details of the room were still there. But
the man himself had gone. Frozen with horror, Moore
moved slowly round. He began to shake and tremble. His
strength left him, and he was unable to move a muscle. He
could only see and hear.
There, on the great high-backed oak chair sat the Judge.
His merciless eyes stared at Moore. There was a smile of
triumph on his cruel mouth. Slowly he lifted up a black hat.
Moore's heart was drumming wildly. There was a strange
singing noise in his ears. Outside, the wind was as wild as
ever. Then, above the screams of the wind, he heard the
great clock striking in the market place. He stood and
listened, stiff and unmoving. The triumph on the Judge's
face grew. As the clock struck twelve, the Judge placed the
black hat on his head. Slowly and deliberately, he rose from
his chair and picked up the piece of rope from the floor. He
pulled it through his hands. Slowly and carefully he made
the thick, pliable rope into a noose. He tested the noose with
his foot. He pulled hard at it until he was pleased with it.
Then he began to move slowly and carefully past the table,
on the opposite side to Moore. Then with one quick
movement he stood in front of the door. Moore was
trapped! All this time, the Judge's eyes never left Moore's.
7
Moore stared into the cruel eyes, like a bird watching
a cat. He saw the Judge coming nearer with his
noose. He saw him throw the noose towards him. Desperately
Moore threw himself to one side, and saw the rope fall
harmlessly to the floor. Again the Judge raised the noose and
tried to catch Moore. Again and again he tried. And all the
time he stared mercilessly at the student. `He's just playing
with me,' thought Moore, `like a cat playing with a bird.
Soon he'll catch me, and hang me . . . '
He looked desperately behind him. Hundreds of rats were
watching him with bright, anxious little eyes. Then he saw
that the rope of the alarm bell was covered with rats. As he
watched, more and more were pouring down onto the rope,
from the round hole in the ceiling that led to the bell itself.
The rats were hanging from the rope, and there were so
many of them that the rope was swinging backwards and
forwards.
The alarm bell began to ring, softly at first, then more
strongly. At the sound, the Judge looked up. A devilish anger
spread across his face. His eyes burned like red jewels.
Outside there was a sudden, deafening crash of thunder.
The Judge raised his noose again, while the rats ran
desperately up and down the rope of the alarm bell.
This time, instead of throwing the rope, the Judge moved
nearer to Moore, and held the noose open. Moore was
unable to move. He stood there like a stone figure. He felt
the Judge's icy fingers and the pliable rope against his neck.
He felt the noose against his throat. Then the Judge picked
up the stiff body of the student in his arms. He carried him
over to the great oak chair and stood him on it. Then,
stepping up beside him, the Judge put up his hand and
caught the rope of the alarm bell. At his touch the rats ran
away, squeaking with fear. They disappeared through the
hole in the ceiling. Then the Judge took the end of the noose
which was around Moore's neck. He tied it to the hanging
bell rope. Then he climbed down, and pulled away the chair.
8
When the alarm bell of the Judge's House began to
ring, a crowd soon gathered. People came running
with lanterns and torches, and soon hundreds of people were
hurrying to the house. They knocked loudly at the door, but
there was no reply. Then they broke down the door, and
poured into the great dining-room. The Doctor was the first
to reach Moore. But too late.
There at the end of the bell rope hung the body of the
student. The Judge stared out once more from his picture.
But on his face there was a smile of triumph.
There at the end of the bell rope hung the body of the student.
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