as the door was always locked at night by Mr. Otis, and the windows
kept closely barred. The chameleon-like colour, also, of the stain
excited a good deal of comment. Some mornings it was a dull (almost
Indian) red, then it would be vermilion, then a rich purple, and
once when they came down for family prayers, according to the simple
rites of the Free American Reformed Episcopalian Church, they found
it a bright emerald-green. These kaleidoscopic changes naturally
amused the party very much, and bets on the subject were freely made
every evening. The only person who did not enter into the joke was
little Virginia, who, for some unexplained reason, was always a good
deal distressed at the sight of the blood-stain, and very nearly
cried the morning it was emerald-green.

The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday night. Shortly
after they had gone to bed they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful
crash in the hall. Rushing downstairs, they found that a large suit
of old armour had become detached from its stand, and had fallen on
the stone floor, while, seated in a high-backed chair, was the
Canterville ghost, rubbing his knees with an expression of acute
agony on his face. The twins, having brought their pea-shooters
with them, at once discharged two pellets on him, with that accuracy
of aim which can only be attained by long and careful practice on a
writing-master, while the United States Minister covered him with
his revolver, and called upon him, in accordance with Californian
etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost started up with a wild
shriek of rage, and swept through them like a mist, extinguishing
Washington Otis's candle as he passed, and so leaving them all in
total darkness. On reaching the top of the staircase he recovered
himself, and determined to give his celebrated peal of demoniac
laughter. This he had on more than one occasion found extremely