Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction. Vol. 25, No. 2, August 13, 1927

For the benefit of people who think them a thing of the past, the first house chosen is of very recent date — a villa in Comeada, a suburb of Coimbra, Portugal. The occurrences which took place there were first described by Mme. Frondoni Lacombe, of Lisbon, in an article published in Annales des Sciences Psychiques, March, 1920.

The main victim or hero — whichever you wish to call him — of the affair later described his experiences in detail in a book, “Le Parc du Mystere,” published in 1923 in collaboration with Mme. Rachilde — a woman who up to that time had refused to admit the reality of psychic phenomena at any price, because her parents had been the victims of mediums.

The Mysterious Window

At the beginning of October, 1919, Homem Christo, a first year law student who had been expelled from the University of Coimbra for refusing to conform to a religious custom, and for armed revolt, rented a house in Coimbra. It consisted of a ground floor and a second story. Christo moved into it, together with his wife, their six weeks’ old baby and two maidservants.

On the first night his wife complained of strange noises in the house. Christo, a sound sleeper, had heard nothing and thought it was just imagination on her part.

Eight days later his friend, Gomez Paredes, a second year law student, visited Comeada on business. He remained overnight and was entertained at the home of Homem Christo.

Paredes retired about 1 A. M. His room was on the ground floor, and his host warned him to be sure to bolt the shutters of the windows so that thieves would not be able to enter the house.

The following is Paredes’s own story to Christo describing what happened:

“Having gone off to sleep after smoking a long time and using up all my matches, I was awakened by a sensation of brightness under the eyelids. It resembled that which is felt when one’s closed eyes are struck by the sudden ray of a lamp or fire.

“It fell on my eyelids with such intensity that at last I opened them. I perceived that the shutters I had carefully closed in accord with your recommendation, since I was on the ground floor had parted and that the moon’s light fell directly on my face.

“I was, or thought I was, sure that I had closed them tight and pushed the bolt into the sill as directed. But I might have made a mistake.

“Then, since I wanted to sleep, suspecting nothing, and since the moonlight bothered me, I went to the window, raised it, hung it to the spring provided to keep it up and bent over to pull in the parted shutters.

“They resisted.

“Now, there was no wind. Since it was on the ground floor it might have been caused by some one standing outside on the garden path. Therefore I called out in a chiding tone, but not loud enough to awaken any of you:

“ ‘Hullo, if anybody is there, let him get out or he’ll catch it.’

“But almost instantly the spring which held up the window came undone, and I got such a furious blow on my neck that I was nearly choked, and had to struggle a long time to get free. I did not want to call you, as I feared the ridicule of my position.

The Shutters Open Again

“When I was out of the trap I closed the window again. And, for greater safety, I went out and inspected the neighborhood of the garden gate. There was nothing in the garden, or on the road.

“The night was calm and a bright moon brought out the smallest details of my window shutters standing as I had left them. It showed no obstacle in front of them.

“Such evidence has the effect of bringing one back to order and coolness. It was clear I had been mistaken. The shutter had not been held by any hand. The falling of the window was a mere accident. I had been half awake. My movements had been badly coordinated, as sometimes happens when one wakes up suddenly.

“I closed my shutters very methodically, put the window down and went to bed.

“But this time I did not succeed in getting to sleep again. In the first place, the back of my neck hurt me very much. The blood was pounding in my arteries. I was restless and oppressed and could not settle down.

“It was then, with my eyes open to every possible reality, that I observed that horrible thing in front of me.

“The shutters opened again, their bolt having risen quite of itself. And I remembered the trouble I had had to get it into the hole deeply enough and without making a noise. Then, I heard behind my bed another horrible grinding sound like a muffled laugh.

With Hit Own Eyes!

“ ‘Somebody is making a fool of me. But who? Where is the fellow?’ I said, clenching my fist.

“A series of heavy blows replied, struck on the wall, on the floor and on the furniture. Blows which found a dull echo in myself as if aimed at me alone.”