From, Blood’s History: 1854
Guests have rarely been encouraged to visit Cross Farm. Even those guests who are related to us. An excellent example of what can occur is related in the tale of Captain Phineas Blood, a cousin who visited the familial homestead in April of 1854.
I can remember him sitting in the parlor, chatting with several of the Coffins and two other Bloods who were in town. While the others wisely chose to find lodging elsewhere, Phineas demanded to be put up in the home. My brother and I beseeched him to at least stay with the Coffins for the night, but he would have none of it.
We placed him in the safest room with the admonition to refrain from leaving his chambers during the night. He found this amusing, and stated, “I promise nothing, gentlemen.”
Unfortunately, our cousin seemed to take our warnings as a challenge.
Phineas left his room at some point after I went to bed. How long it was before he was discovered, I do not know. My sleep was broken by the man’s screams, long, pitiful utterances that informed us he was no longer for this world.
Indeed, he was not.
My brother and I found Phineas in the kitchen, splayed and nailed to the table with pieces of his saber. The beast eating him fled at the sight of us, and as I put Phineas out of his misery, my brother hunted the creature down and killed it.
Phineas returns occasionally to bemoan his fate. He is as irritating in death as he was in life.
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