Ghost House — Norman Berrow

The few people in the neighborhood called it Ghost House and gave it a wide berth. For it was a house of mystery from which screams could be heard coming apparently from no human throat, where, it was alleged, the painted eyes in the portraits that hung on the walls followed you about as you passed by, and where the mirrors in the bedrooms reflected things that were not there to be reflected.

Ghost House had been empty and deserted for forty years. Yet when Gerry Martin and his wife drove up there seeking refuge from a sudden blinding storm they found it occupied and themselves soon afterwards virtually prisoners.

What was the secret of these people? What was the secret of the man who was found nearly drowned in the sea at the foot of the cliffs? Above all what was the secret of the terrifying laughter of the Devil?