henceforth must be yours. At one to-night, prepare to meet the
phantom I have raised. Farewell!"

The sound of its voice seemed to fade away with the dying wind, and
the Haunted Man was alone. But the firelight flickered gayly, and
the light danced on the walls, making grotesque figures of the
furniture.

"Ha, ha!" said the Haunted Man, rubbing his hands gleefully; "now
for a whiskey punch and a cigar."


BOOK II.

THE SECOND PHANTOM.


One! The stroke of the far-off bell had hardly died before the
front door closed with a reverberating clang. Steps were heard
along the passage; the library door swung open of itself, and the
Knocker--yes, the Knocker--slowly strode into the room. The
Haunted Man rubbed his eyes,--no! there could be no mistake about
it,--it was the Knocker's face, mounted on a misty, almost
imperceptible body. The brazen rod was transferred from its mouth
to its right hand, where it was held like a ghostly truncheon.

"It's a cold evening," said the Haunted Man.

"It is," said the Goblin, in a hard, metallic voice.