"Come," said the phantom.

The Haunted Man sighed, and took out his watch. "Couldn't we do
the rest of this another time?"

"My hour is almost spent, irreverent being, but there is yet a
chance for your reformation. Come!"

Again they sped through the night, and again halted. The sound of
delicious but melancholy music fell upon their ears.

"I see," said the Haunted Man, with something of interest in his
manner,--"I see an old moss-covered manse beside a sluggish,
flowing river. I see weird shapes: witches, Puritans, clergymen,
little children, judges, mesmerized maidens, moving to the sound of
melody that thrills me with its sweetness and purity. But,
although carried along its calm and evenly flowing current, the
shapes are strange and frightful: an eating lichen gnaws at the
heart of each. Not only the clergymen, but witch, maiden, judge,
and Puritan, all wear Scarlet Letters of some kind burned upon
their hearts. I am fascinated and thrilled, but I feel a morbid
sensitiveness creeping over me. I--I beg your pardon." The Goblin
was yawning frightfully. "Well, perhaps we had better go."

"One more, and the last," said the Goblin.

They were moving home. Streaks of red were beginning to appear in
the eastern sky. Along the banks of the blackly flowing river by
moorland and stagnant fens, by low houses, clustering close to the
water's edge, like strange mollusks, crawled upon the beach to dry;