“What does this mean?” asked Tom Temple, a little angrily.

At this the housekeeper became conscious and said in a hoarse whisper, “Is she gone?”

“What?  Who do you mean?” asked Tom.

“The hall lady,” she said fearfully.

“We are all friends here,” said Tom, and I thought I detected an amount of anxiety in his voice.

This appeared to assure the housekeeper, who got up and tried to collect her thoughts.  We all waited anxiously for her to speak.

“I have stayed up late, Mr. Temple,” she said to Tom, “in order to arrange somewhat for the party you propose giving on Thursday.  The work had got behind, and so I asked two or three of the servants to assist me.”

She stopped here, as if at a loss how to proceed.

“Go on, Mrs. Richards; we want to know all.  Surely there must be something terrible to cause you all to arouse us in this way.”

“I’ll tell you as well as I can,” said the housekeeper, “but I can hardly bear to think about it.  Twas about one o’clock, and we were all very busy, when we heard a noise in the corridor outside the door.  Naturally we turned to look, when the door opened and something entered.”

“Well, what?  Some servant walking in her sleep?”

“No, sir,” said Mrs. Richards in awful tones.  “It looked like a woman, very tall, and she had a long white shroud around her, and on it were spots of blood.  In her hand she carried a long knife, which was also covered with blood, while the hand which held it was red.  She came closer to us,” she went on with a shudder, “and then stopped, lifting the terrible knife in the air.  I cannot remember any more, for I was so terribly frightened.  I gave an awful scream, and then I suppose I fainted.”

This story was told with many interruptions, many pauses, many cries, and I saw that the faces of those around were blanched with fear.

“Do you know what it did, Simon,” said Tom, turning to that worthy, “after it lifted its knife in the air?”

“She went away with a wail like,” said Simon, slowly; “she opened the door and went out.  An’ then I tried to go to the door, and when I got there, there was nothin’.”

“That is, you looked into the passage?”

Simon nodded.  “And what did you think she was like?”

“Like the hall ghost, as I’ve heard so much about,” said Simon.

“The hall ghost!” cried the ladies, hysterically.  “What does that mean, Mr. Temple?”

I do not think Tom should have encouraged their superstition by telling them, but he did.  He was excited, and scarcely knew what was best to do.

“They say that, like other old houses, Temple Hall has its ghost,” he said; “that she usually appears on New Year’s night.  If the year is to be good to those within at the time, she comes with flowers and dressed in gay attire; if bad, she is clothed in black; if there’s to be death for any one, she wears a shroud.  But it’s all nonsense, you know,” said Tom, uneasily.