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