第1章

Maybehehasforgottenwherehereallydidputit，andistryingtoremember。I’llgivehimanotherchance。"

TheghostappearedgratefulanddelightedatseeingJoepreparetofollowhim，andledthewayintotheattic，pointedtotheceiling，andvanished。

"Well，he’shititthistime，Idohope，"saidmybrother—in—law；

andnextdaytheysettoworktotaketheroofofftheplace。

Ittookthemthreedaystogettheroofthoroughlyoff，andalltheyfoundwasabird’snest；aftersecuringwhichtheycoveredupthehousewithtarpaulins，tokeepitdry。

Youmighthavethoughtthatwouldhavecuredthepoorfellowoflookingfortreasure。Butitdidn’t。

Hesaidtheremustbesomethinginitall，ortheghostwouldneverkeeponcomingasitdid；andthat，havinggonesofar，hewouldgoontotheend，andsolvethemystery，costwhatitmight。

Nightafternight，hewouldgetoutofhisbedandfollowthatspectraloldfraudaboutthehouse。Eachnight，theoldmanwouldindicateadifferentplace；and，oneachfollowingday，mybrother—

in—lawwouldproceedtobreakupthemillatthepointindicated，andlookforthetreasure。Attheendofthreeweeks，therewasnotaroominthemillfittolivein。Everywallhadbeenpulleddown，everyfloorhadbeentakenup，everyceilinghadhadaholeknockedinit。Andthen，assuddenlyastheyhadbegun，theghost’svisitsceased；andmybrother—in—lawwasleftinpeace，torebuildtheplaceathisleisure。

"Whatinducedtheoldimagetoplaysuchasillytrickuponafamilymanandaratepayer？"Ah！that’sjustwhatIcannottellyou。

Somesaidthattheghostofthewickedoldmanhaddoneittopunishmybrother—in—lawfornotbelievinginhimatfirst；whileothersheldthattheapparitionwasprobablythatofsomedeceasedlocalplumberandglazier，whowouldnaturallytakeaninterestinseeingahouseknockedaboutandspoilt。Butnobodyknewanythingforcertain。

INTERLUDE

Wehadsomemorepunch，andthenthecuratetoldusastory。

Icouldnotmakeheadortailofthecurate’sstory，soIcannotretailittoyou。Wenoneofuscouldmakeheadortailofthatstory。Itwasagoodstoryenough，sofarasmaterialwent。Thereseemedtobeanenormousamountofplot，andenoughincidenttohavemadeadozennovels。Ineverbeforeheardastorycontainingsomuchincident，noronedealingwithsomanyvariedcharacters。

Ishouldsaythateveryhumanbeingourcuratehadeverknownormet，orheardof，wasbroughtintothatstory。Thereweresimplyhundredsofthem。Everyfivesecondshewouldintroduceintothetaleacompletelyfreshcollectionofcharactersaccompaniedbyabrandnewsetofincidents。

Thiswasthesortofstoryitwas：—

"Well，then，myunclewentintothegarden，andgothisgun，but，ofcourse，itwasn’tthere，andScrogginssaidhedidn’tbelieveit。"

"Didn’tbelievewhat？Who’sScroggins？"

"Scroggins！Oh，whyhewastheotherman，youknow——itwaswife。"

"WHATwashiswife——what’sSHEgottodowithit？"

"Why，that’swhatI’mtellingyou。Itwasshethatfoundthehat。

She’dcomeupwithhercousintoLondon——hercousinwasmysister—

in—law，andtheotherniecehadmarriedamannamedEvans，andEvans，afteritwasallover，hadtakentheboxroundtoMr。

Jacobs’，becauseJacobs’fatherhadseentheman，whenhewasalive，andwhenhewasdead，Joseph——"

"Nowlookhere，neveryoumindEvansandthebox；what’sbecomeofyouruncleandthegun？"

"Thegun！Whatgun？"

"Why，thegunthatyouruncleusedtokeepinthegarden，andthatwasn’tthere。Whatdidhedowithit？Didhekillanyofthesepeoplewithit——theseJacobsesandEvansesandScrogginsesandJosephses？Because，ifso，itwasagoodandusefulwork，andweshouldenjoyhearingaboutit。"

"No——ohno——howcouldhe？——hehadbeenbuiltupaliveinthewall，youknow，andwhenEdwardIVspoketotheabbotaboutit，mysistersaidthatinherthenstateofhealthshecouldnotandwouldnot，asitwasendangeringthechild’slife。SotheychristeneditHoratio，afterherownson，whohadbeenkilledatWaterloobeforehewasborn，andLordNapierhimselfsaid——"

"Lookhere，doyouknowwhatyouaretalkingabout？"weaskedhimatthispoint。

Hesaid"No，"butheknewitwaseverywordofittrue，becausehisaunthadseenitherself。Whereuponwecoveredhimoverwiththetablecloth，andhewenttosleep。

AndthenUncletoldusastory。

Unclesaidhiswasarealstory。

THEGHOSTOFTHEBLUECHAMBER

（MyUncle’sStory）

"Idon’twanttomakeyoufellowsnervous，"beganmyuncleinapeculiarlyimpressive，nottosayblood—curdling，toneofvoice，"andifyouwouldratherthatIdidnotmentionit，Iwon’t；but，asamatteroffact，thisveryhouse，inwhichwearenowsitting，ishaunted。"

"Youdon’tsaythat！"exclaimedMr。Coombes。

"What’stheuseofyoursayingIdon’tsayitwhenIhavejustsaidit？"retortedmyunclesomewhatpettishly。"Youdotalksofoolishly。Itellyouthehouseishaunted。RegularlyonChristmasEvetheBlueChamber[theycalledtheroomnexttothenurserythe’bluechamber，’atmyuncle’s，mostofthetoiletservicebeingofthatshade]ishauntedbytheghostofasinfulman——amanwhooncekilledaChristmaswaitwithalumpofcoal。"

"Howdidhedoit？"askedMr。Coombes，witheageranxiousness。

"Wasitdifficult？"

"Idonotknowhowhedidit，"repliedmyuncle；"hedidnotexplaintheprocess。Thewaithadtakenupapositionjustinsidethefrontgate，andwassingingaballad。Itispresumedthat，whenheopenedhismouthforBflat，thelumpofcoalwasthrownbythesinfulmanfromoneofthewindows，andthatitwentdownthewait’sthroatandchokedhim。"

"Youwanttobeagoodshot，butitiscertainlyworthtrying，"

murmuredMr。Coombesthoughtfully。

"Butthatwasnothisonlycrime，alas！"addedmyuncle。"Priortothathehadkilledasolocornet—player。"

"No！Isthatreallyafact？"exclaimedMr。Coombes。

"Ofcourseit’safact，"answeredmyuncletestily；"atallevents，asmuchafactasyoucanexpecttogetinacaseofthissort。

"Howverycaptiousyouarethisevening。Thecircumstantialevidencewasoverwhelming。Thepoorfellow，thecornet—player，hadbeenintheneighbourhoodbarelyamonth。OldMr。Bishop，whokeptthe’JollySandBoys’atthetime，andfromwhomIhadthestory，saidhehadneverknownamorehard—workingandenergeticsolocornet—player。He，thecornet—player，onlyknewtwotunes，butMr。

Bishopsaidthatthemancouldnothaveplayedwithmorevigour，orformorehoursinaday，ifhehadknownforty。Thetwotuneshedidplaywere"AnnieLaurie"and"Home，SweetHome"；andasregardedhisperformanceoftheformermelody，Mr。Bishopsaidthatamerechildcouldhavetoldwhatitwasmeantfor。

"Thismusician——thispoor，friendlessartistusedtocomeregularlyandplayinthisstreetjustoppositefortwohourseveryevening。

Oneeveninghewasseen，evidentlyinresponsetoaninvitation，goingintothisveryhouse，BUTWASNEVERSEENCOMINGOUTOFIT！"

"Didthetownsfolktryofferinganyrewardforhisrecovery？"askedMr。Coombes。

"Notaha’penny，"repliedmyuncle。

"Anothersummer，"continuedmyuncle，"aGermanbandvisitedhere，intending——sotheyannouncedontheirarrival——tostaytilltheautumn。

"Ontheseconddayfromtheirarrival，thewholecompany，asfineandhealthyabodyofmenasonecouldwishtosee，wereinvitedtodinnerbythissinfulman，and，afterspendingthewholeofthenexttwenty—fourhoursinbed，leftthetownabrokenanddyspepticcrew；theparishdoctor，whohadattendedthem，givingitashisopinionthatitwasdoubtfuliftheywould，anyofthem，befittoplayanairagain。"

"You——youdon’tknowtherecipe，doyou？"askedMr。Coombes。

"UnfortunatelyIdonot，"repliedmyuncle；"butthechiefingredientwassaidtohavebeenrailwayrefreshment—roompork—pie。

"Iforgettheman’sothercrimes，"myunclewenton；"Iusedtoknowthemallatonetime，butmymemoryisnotwhatitwas。Idonot，however，believeIamdoinghismemoryaninjusticeinbelievingthathewasnotentirelyunconnectedwiththedeath，andsubsequentburial，ofagentlemanwhousedtoplaytheharpwithhistoes；andthatneitherwashealtogetherunresponsibleforthelonelygraveofanunknownstrangerwhohadoncevisitedtheneighbourhood，anItalianpeasantlad，aperformeruponthebarrel—

organ。

"EveryChristmasEve，"saidmyuncle，cleavingwithlowimpressivetonesthestrangeawedsilencethat，likeashadow，seemedtohaveslowlystolenintoandsettleddownupontheroom，"theghostofthissinfulmanhauntstheBlueChamber，inthisveryhouse。

There，frommidnightuntilcock—crow，amidwildmuffledshrieksandgroansandmockinglaughterandtheghostlysoundofhorridblows，itdoesfiercephantomfightwiththespiritsofthesolocornet—

playerandthemurderedwait，assistedatintervals，bytheshadesoftheGermanband；whiletheghostofthestrangledharpistplaysmadghostlymelodieswithghostlytoesontheghostofabrokenharp。

UnclesaidtheBlueChamberwascomparativelyuselessasasleeping—apartmentonChristmasEve。

"Hark！"saiduncle，raisingawarninghandtowardstheceiling，whileweheldourbreath，andlistened；"Hark！Ibelievetheyareatitnow——intheBLUECHAMBER！"

THEBLUECHAMBER

Iroseup，andsaidthatIwouldsleepintheBlueChamber。

BeforeItellyoumyownstory，however——thestoryofwhathappenedintheBlueChamber——Iwouldwishtoprefaceitwith—

APERSONALEXPLANATION

Ifeelagooddealofhesitationabouttellingyouthisstoryofmyown。YouseeitisnotastoryliketheotherstoriesthatIhavebeentellingyou，orratherthatTeddyBiffles，Mr。Coombes，andmyunclehavebeentellingyou：itisatruestory。ItisnotastorytoldbyapersonsittingroundafireonChristmasEve，drinkingwhiskypunch：itisarecordofeventsthatactuallyhappened。

Indeed，itisnota’story’atall，inthecommonlyacceptedmeaningoftheword：itisareport。Itis，Ifeel，almostoutofplaceinabookofthiskind。Itismoresuitabletoabiography，oranEnglishhistory。

Thereisanotherthingthatmakesitdifficultformetotellyouthisstory，andthatis，thatitisallaboutmyself。Intellingyouthisstory，Ishallhavetokeepontalkingaboutmyself；andtalkingaboutourselvesiswhatwemodern—dayauthorshaveastrongobjectiontodoing。Ifweliterarymenofthenewschoolhaveonepraiseworthyyearningmoreeverpresenttoourmindsthananotheritistheyearningnevertoappearintheslightestdegreeegotistical。

Imyself，soIamtold，carrythiscoyness——thisshrinkingreticenceconcerninganythingconnectedwithmyownpersonality，almosttoofar；andpeoplegrumbleatmebecauseofit。Peoplecometomeandsay—

"Well，now，whydon’tyoutalkaboutyourselfabit？That’swhatwewanttoreadabout。Tellussomethingaboutyourself。"

ButIhavealwaysreplied，"No。"ItisnotthatIdonotthinkthesubjectaninterestingone。Icannotmyselfconceiveofanytopicmorelikelytoprovefascinatingtotheworldasawhole，oratalleventstotheculturedportionofit。ButIwillnotdoit，onprinciple。Itisinartistic，anditsetsabadexampletotheyoungermen。Otherwriters（afewofthem）doit，Iknow；butI

willnot——notasarule。

Underordinarycircumstances，therefore，Ishouldnottellyouthisstoryatall。Ishouldsaytomyself，"No！Itisagoodstory，itisamoralstory，itisastrange，weird，enthrallingsortofastory；andthepublic，Iknow，wouldliketohearit；andIshouldliketotellittothem；butitisallaboutmyself——aboutwhatI

said，andwhatIsaw，andwhatIdid，andIcannotdoit。Myretiring，anti—egotisticalnaturewillnotpermitmetotalkinthiswayaboutmyself。"

Butthecircumstancessurroundingthisstoryarenotordinary，andtherearereasonspromptingme，inspiteofmymodesty，toratherwelcometheopportunityofrelatingit。

AsIstatedatthebeginning，therehasbeenunpleasantnessinourfamilyoverthispartyofours，and，asregardsmyselfinparticular，andmyshareintheeventsIamnowabouttosetforth，grossinjusticehasbeendoneme。

Asameansofreplacingmycharacterinitsproperlight——ofdispellingthecloudsofcalumnyandmisconceptionwithwhichithasbeendarkened，Ifeelthatmybestcourseistogiveasimple，dignifiednarrationoftheplainfacts，andallowtheunprejudicedtojudgeforthemselves。Mychiefobject，Icandidlyconfess，istoclearmyselffromunjustaspersion。Spurredbythismotive——andIthinkitisanhonourableandarightmotive——IfindIamenabledtoovercomemyusualrepugnancetotalkingaboutmyself，andcanthustell—

MYOWNSTORY

Assoonasmyunclehadfinishedhisstory，I，asIhavealreadytoldyou，roseupandsaidthat_I_wouldsleepintheBlueChamberthatverynight。

"Never！"criedmyuncle，springingup。"Youshallnotputyourselfinthisdeadlyperil。Besides，thebedisnotmade。"

"Nevermindthebed，"Ireplied。"Ihavelivedinfurnishedapartmentsforgentlemen，andhavebeenaccustomedtosleeponbedsthathaveneverbeenmadefromoneyear’sendtotheother。Donotthwartmeinmyresolve。Iamyoung，andhavehadaclearconsciencenowforoveramonth。Thespiritswillnotharmme。I

mayevendothemsomelittlegood，andinducethemtobequietandgoaway。Besides，Ishouldliketoseetheshow。"

Sayingwhich，Isatdownagain。（HowMr。Coombescametobeinmychair，insteadofattheothersideoftheroom，wherehehadbeenalltheevening；andwhyheneverofferedtoapologisewhenIsatrightdownontopofhim；andwhyyoungBifflesshouldhavetriedtopalmhimselfoffuponmeasmyUncleJohn，andinducedme，underthaterroneousimpression，toshakehimbythehandfornearlythreeminutes，andtellhimthatIhadalwaysregardedhimasfather，——aremattersthat，tothisday，Ihaveneverbeenabletofullyunderstand。）

Theytriedtodissuademefromwhattheytermedmyfoolhardyenterprise，butIremainedfirm，andclaimedmyprivilege。Iwas’theguest。’’Theguest’alwayssleepsinthehauntedchamberonChristmasEve；itishisperquisite。

TheysaidthatifIputitonthatfooting，theyhad，ofcourse，noanswer；andtheylightedacandleforme，andaccompaniedmeupstairsinabody。

WhetherelevatedbythefeelingthatIwasdoinganobleaction，oranimatedbyameregeneralconsciousnessofrectitude，isnotformetosay，butIwentupstairsthatnightwithremarkablebuoyancy。

ItwasasmuchasIcoulddotostopatthelandingwhenIcametoit；IfeltIwantedtogoonuptotheroof。But，withthehelpofthebanisters，Irestrainedmyambition，wishedthemallgood—

night，andwentinandshutthedoor。

Thingsbegantogowrongwithmefromtheveryfirst。Thecandletumbledoutofthecandlestickbeforemyhandwasoffthelock。Itkeptontumblingoutofthecandlestick，andeverytimeIpickedputitupandputitin，ittumbledoutagain：Ineversawsuchaslipperycandle。Igaveupattemptingtousethecandlestickatlast，andcarriedthecandleaboutinmyhand；and，eventhen，itwouldnotkeepupright。SoIgotwildandthrewitoutofwindow，andundressedandwenttobedinthedark。

Ididnotgotosleep，——Ididnotfeelsleepyatall，——Ilayonmyback，lookingupattheceiling，andthinkingofthings。IwishI

couldremembersomeoftheideasthatcametomeasIlaythere，becausetheyweresoamusing。Ilaughedatthemmyselftillthebedshook。

Ihadbeenlyinglikethisforhalfanhourorso，andhadforgottenallabouttheghost，when，oncasuallycastingmyeyesroundtheroom，Inoticedforthefirsttimeasingularlycontented—lookingphantom，sittingintheeasy—chairbythefire，smokingtheghostofalongclaypipe。

Ifanciedforthemoment，asmostpeoplewouldundersimilarcircumstances，thatImustbedreaming。Isatup，andrubbedmyeyes。

No！Itwasaghost，clearenough。Icouldseethebackofthechairthroughhisbody。Helookedovertowardsme，tooktheshadowypipefromhislips，andnodded。

ThemostsurprisingpartofthewholethingtomewasthatIdidnotfeelintheleastalarmed。Ifanything，Iwasratherpleasedtoseehim。Itwascompany。

Isaid，"Goodevening。It’sbeenacoldday！"

Hesaidhehadnotnoticedithimself，butdaredsayIwasright。

Weremainedsilentforafewseconds，andthen，wishingtoputitpleasantly，Isaid，"IbelieveIhavethehonourofaddressingtheghostofthegentlemanwhohadtheaccidentwiththewait？"

Hesmiled，andsaiditwasverygoodofmetorememberit。Onewaitwasnotmuchtoboastof，butstill，everylittlehelped。

Iwassomewhatstaggeredathisanswer。Ihadexpectedagroanofremorse。Theghostappeared，onthecontrary，toberatherconceitedoverthebusiness。Ithoughtthat，ashehadtakenmyreferencetothewaitsoquietly，perhapshewouldnotbeoffendedifIquestionedhimabouttheorgan—grinder。Ifeltcuriousaboutthatpoorboy。

"Isittrue，"Iasked，"thatyouhadahandinthedeathofthatItalianpeasantladwhocametothetownoncewithabarrel—organthatplayednothingbutScotchairs？"

Hequitefiredup。"Hadahandinit！"heexclaimedindignantly。

"Whohasdaredtopretendthatheassistedme？Imurderedtheyouthmyself。Nobodyhelpedme。AloneIdidit。ShowmethemanwhosaysIdidn’t。"

Icalmedhim。IassuredhimthatIhadnever，inmyownmind，doubtedthathewastherealandonlyassassin，andIwentonandaskedhimwhathehaddonewiththebodyofthecornet—playerhehadkilled。

Hesaid，"Towhichonemayyoubealluding？"

"Oh，werethereanymorethen？"Iinquired。

Hesmiled，andgavealittlecough。Hesaidhedidnotliketoappeartobeboasting，butthat，countingtrombones，therewereseven。

"Dearme！"Ireplied，"youmusthavehadquiteabusytimeofit，onewayandanother。"

Hesaidthatperhapsheoughtnottobetheonetosayso，butthatreally，speakingofordinarymiddle—society，hethoughttherewerefewghostswhocouldlookbackuponalifeofmoresustainedusefulness。

Hepuffedawayinsilenceforafewseconds，whileIsatwatchinghim。Ihadneverseenaghostsmokingapipebefore，thatIcouldremember，anditinterestedme。

Iaskedhimwhattobaccoheused，andhereplied，"Theghostofcutcavendish，asarule。"

Heexplainedthattheghostofallthetobaccothatamansmokedinlifebelongedtohimwhenhebecamedead。Hesaidhehimselfhadsmokedagooddealofcutcavendishwhenhewasalive，sothathewaswellsuppliedwiththeghostofitnow。

Iobservedthatitwasausefulthingtoknowthat，andImadeupmymindtosmokeasmuchtobaccoaseverIcouldbeforeIdied。

IthoughtImightaswellstartatonce，soIsaidIwouldjoinhiminapipe，andhesaid，"Do，oldman"；andIreachedoverandgotoutthenecessaryparaphernaliafrommycoatpocketandlitup。

Wegrewquitechummyafterthat，andhetoldmeallhiscrimes。Hesaidhehadlivednextdooroncetoayoungladywhowaslearningtoplaytheguitar，whileagentlemanwhopractisedonthebass—

viollivedopposite。Andhe，withfiendishcunning，hadintroducedthesetwounsuspectingyoungpeopletooneanother，andhadpersuadedthemtoelopewitheachotheragainsttheirparents’

wishes，andtaketheirmusicalinstrumentswiththem；andtheyhaddoneso，and，beforethehoneymoonwasover，SHEhadbrokenhisheadwiththebass—viol，andHEhadtriedtocramtheguitardownherthroat，andhadinjuredherforlife。

Myfriendsaidheusedtoluremuffin—menintothepassageandthenstuffthemwiththeirownwarestilltheyburstanddied。Hesaidhehadquietedeighteenthatway。

Youngmenandwomenwhorecitedlonganddrearypoemsateveningparties，andcallowyouthswhowalkedaboutthestreetslateatnight，playingconcertinas，heusedtogettogetherandpoisoninbatchesoften，soastosaveexpense；andparkoratorsandtemperancelecturersheusedtoshutupsixinasmallroomwithaglassofwaterandacollection—boxapiece，andletthemtalkeachothertodeath。

Itdidonegoodtolistentohim。

Iaskedhimwhenheexpectedtheotherghosts——theghostsofthewaitandthecornet—player，andtheGermanbandthatUncleJohnhadmentioned。Hesmiled，andsaidtheywouldnevercomeagain，anyofthem。

Isaid，"Why；isn’tittrue，then，thattheymeetyouhereeveryChristmasEveforarow？"

HerepliedthatitWAStrue。EveryChristmasEve，fortwenty—fiveyears，hadheandtheyfoughtinthatroom；buttheywouldnevertroublehimnoranybodyelseagain。Onebyone，hadhelaidthemout，spoilt，andutterlyuselessforallhauntingpurposes。HehadfinishedoffthelastGerman—bandghostthatveryevening，justbeforeIcameupstairs，andhadthrownwhatwasleftofitoutthroughtheslitbetweenthewindow—sashes。Hesaiditwouldneverbeworthcallingaghostagain。

"Isupposeyouwillstillcomeyourself，asusual？"Isaid。"Theywouldbesorrytomissyou，Iknow。"

"Oh，Idon’tknow，"hereplied；"there’snothingmuchtocomefornow。Unless，"headdedkindly，"YOUaregoingtobehere。I’llcomeifyouwillsleepherenextChristmasEve。"

"Ihavetakenalikingtoyou，"hecontinued；"youdon’tflyoff，screeching，whenyouseeaparty，andyourhairdoesn’tstandonend。You’venoidea，"hesaid，"howsickIamofseeingpeople’shairstandingonend。"

Hesaiditirritatedhim。

Justthenaslightnoisereachedusfromtheyardbelow，andhestartedandturneddeathlyblack。

"Youareill，"Icried，springingtowardshim；"tellmethebestthingtodoforyou。ShallIdrinksomebrandy，andgiveyoutheghostofit？"

Heremainedsilent，listeningintentlyforamoment，andthenhegaveasighofrelief，andtheshadecamebacktohischeek。

"It’sallright，"hemurmured；"Iwasafraiditwasthecock。"

"Oh，it’stooearlyforthat，"Isaid。"Why，it’sonlythemiddleofthenight。"

"Oh，thatdoesn’tmakeanydifferencetothosecursedchickens，"herepliedbitterly。"Theywouldjustassooncrowinthemiddleofthenightasatanyothertime——sooner，iftheythoughtitwouldspoilachap’seveningout。Ibelievetheydoitonpurpose。"

Hesaidafriendofhis，theghostofamanwhohadkilledawater—

ratecollector，usedtohauntahouseinLongAcre，wheretheykeptfowlsinthecellar，andeverytimeapolicemanwentbyandflashedhisbull’s—eyedownthegrating，theoldcocktherewouldfancyitwasthesun，andstartcrowinglikemad；when，ofcourse，thepoorghosthadtodissolve，anditwould，inconsequence，getbackhomesometimesasearlyasoneo’clockinthemorning，swearingfearfullybecauseithadonlybeenoutforanhour。

Iagreedthatitseemedveryunfair。

"Oh，it’sanabsurdarrangementaltogether，"hecontinued，quiteangrily。"Ican’timaginewhatouroldmancouldhavebeenthinkingofwhenhemadeit。AsIhavesaidtohim，overandoveragain，’Haveafixedtime，andleteverybodysticktoit——sayfouro’clockinsummer，andsixinwinter。Thenonewouldknowwhatonewasabout。’"

"Howdoyoumanagewhenthereisn’tanycockhandy？"Iinquired。

Hewasonthepointofreplying，whenagainhestartedandlistened。ThistimeIdistinctlyheardMr。Bowles’scock，nextdoor，crowtwice。

"Thereyouare，"hesaid，risingandreachingforhishat；"that’sthesortofthingwehavetoputupwith。WhatISthetime？"

Ilookedatmywatch，andfounditwashalf—pastthree。

"Ithoughtasmuch，"hemuttered。"I’llwringthatblessedbird’sneckifIgetholdofit。"Andhepreparedtogo。

"Ifyoucanwaithalfaminute，"Isaid，gettingoutofbed，"I’llgoabitofthewaywithyou。"

"It’sverygoodofyou，"herejoined，pausing，"butitseemsunkindtodragyouout。"

"Notatall，"Ireplied；"Ishalllikeawalk。"AndIpartiallydressedmyself，andtookmyumbrella；andheputhisarmthroughmine，andwewentouttogether。

JustbythegatewemetJones，oneofthelocalconstables。

"Good—night，Jones，"Isaid（IalwaysfeelaffableatChristmas—

time）。

"Good—night，sir，"answeredthemanalittlegruffly，Ithought。

"MayIaskwhatyou’rea—doingof？"

"Oh，it’sallright，"Iresponded，withawaveofmyumbrella；"I’mjustseeingmyfriendpartofthewayhome。"

Hesaid，"Whatfriend？"

"Oh，ah，ofcourse，"Ilaughed；"Iforgot。He’sinvisibletoyou。

Heistheghostofthegentlemanthatkilledthewait。I’mjustgoingtothecornerwithhim。"

"Ah，Idon’tthinkIwould，ifIwasyou，sir，"saidJonesseverely。"Ifyoutakemyadvice，you’llsaygood—byetoyourfriendhere，andgobackindoors。Perhapsyouarenotawarethatyouarewalkingaboutwithnothingonbutanight—shirtandapairofbootsandanopera—hat。Where’syourtrousers？"

Ididnotliketheman’smanneratall。Isaid，"Jones！Idon’twishtohavetoreportyou，butitseemstomeyou’vebeendrinking。Mytrousersarewhereaman’strousersoughttobe——onhislegs。Idistinctlyrememberputtingthemon。"

"Well，youhaven’tgotthemonnow，"heretorted。

"Ibegyourpardon，"Ireplied。"ItellyouIhave；IthinkI

oughttoknow。"

"Ithinkso，too，"heanswered，"butyouevidentlydon’t。Nowyoucomealongindoorswithme，anddon’tlet’shaveanymoreofit。"

UncleJohncametothedooratthispoint，havingbeenawaked，I

suppose，bythealtercation；and，atthesamemoment，AuntMariaappearedatthewindowinhernightcap。

Iexplainedtheconstable’smistaketothem，treatingthematteraslightlyasIcould，soasnottogetthemanintotrouble，andI

turnedforconfirmationtotheghost。

Hewasgone！Hehadleftmewithoutaword——withoutevensayinggood—bye！

Itstruckmeassounkind，hishavinggoneoffinthatway，thatI

burstintotears；andUncleJohncameout，andledmebackintothehouse。

Onreachingmyroom，IdiscoveredthatJoneswasright。Ihadnotputonmytrousers，afterall。Theywerestillhangingoverthebed—rail。Isuppose，inmyanxietynottokeeptheghostwaiting，Imusthaveforgottenthem。

Sucharetheplainfactsofthecase，outofwhichitmust，doubtless，tothehealthy，charitablemindappearimpossiblethatcalumnycouldspring。

Butithas。

Persons——Isay’persons’——haveprofessedthemselvesunabletounderstandthesimplecircumstanceshereinnarrated，exceptinthelightofexplanationsatoncemisleadingandinsulting。Slurshavebeencastandaspersionsmadeonmebythoseofmyownfleshandblood。

ButIbearnoill—feeling。Imerely，asIhavesaid，setforththisstatementforthepurposeofclearingmycharacterfrominjurioussuspicion。