“Oh, sir, pray trust me,” answered F——­, grinning with delight.

“Very well; then here are the keys of the house,—­this is the address.  Go now,—­select for me any bedroom you please; and since the house has not been inhabited for weeks, make up a good fire, air the bed well,—­see, of course, that there are candles as well as fuel.  Take with you my revolver and my dagger,—­so much for my weapons; arm yourself equally well; and if we are not a match for a dozen ghosts, we shall be but a sorry couple of Englishmen.

I was engaged for the rest of the day on business so urgent that I had not leisure to think much on the nocturnal adventure to which I had plighted my honor.  I dined alone, and very late, and while dining, read, as is my habit.  I selected one of the volumes of Macaulay’s Essays.  I thought to myself that I would take the book with me; there was so much of healthfulness in the style, and practical life in the subjects, that it would serve as an antidote against the influences of superstitious fancy.

Accordingly, about half-past nine, I put the book into my pocket, and strolled leisurely toward the haunted house.  I took with me a favorite dog:  an exceedingly sharp, bold, and vigilant bull terrier,—­a dog fond of prowling about strange, ghostly corners and passages at night in search of rats; a dog of dogs for a ghost.

I reached the house, knocked, and my servant opened with a cheerful smile.

We did not stay long in the drawing-rooms,—­in fact, they felt so damp and so chilly that I was glad to get to the fire upstairs.  We locked the doors of the drawing-rooms,—­a precaution which, I should observe, we had taken with all the rooms we had searched below.  The bedroom my servant had selected for me was the best on the floor,—­a large one, with two windows fronting the street.  The four-posted bed, which took up no inconsiderable space, was opposite to the fire, which burned clear and bright; a door in the wall to the left, between the bed and the window, communicated with the room which my servant appropriated to himself.  This last was a small room with a sofa bed, and had no communication with the landing place,—­no other door but that which conducted to the bedroom I was to occupy.  On either side of my fireplace was a cupboard without locks, flush with the wall, and covered with the same dull-brown paper.  We examined these cupboards,—­only hooks to suspend female dresses, nothing else; we sounded the walls,—­ evidently solid, the outer walls of the building.  Having finished the survey of these apartments, warmed myself a few moments, and lighted my cigar, I then, still accompanied by F——­, went forth to complete my reconnoiter.  In the landing place there was another door; it was closed firmly.  “Sir,” said my servant, in surprise, “I unlocked this door with all the others when I first came; it cannot have got locked from the inside, for—­”