The Ghost of Guir House

Although Mr. Henley had no doubt of the truth of Miss Guir's assertion,

the mystery of her life was as real and deeply impressive as ever.

Perhaps it was even more so, as seeming more subtle and far-reaching

than crime itself, if such a thing were possible. Paul was determined

to investigate the secret of the closet stairs; for while Ah Ben's

explanation was plausible to a degree, the blank wall and heavy door

at the bottom filled him with an uncanny fascination, which grew as he

pondered upon them. Exactly what course to pursue he had not decided,

but awaited an opportunity to continue his efforts in earnest. There

were two serious difficulties to contend with; one was the want of

tools, the other the necessity of prosecuting his work in silence.

As upon the previous evening, Dorothy and Mr. Henley dined alone,

although Ah Ben, appearing just before they had finished, partook of

a little dry lettuce and a small cup of coffee. Dorothy, as usual,

ate most sparingly, "scarcely enough," as Paul remarked, "to keep the

parrot alive."

After dinner they went together into the great hall, where Ah Ben

prepared a pipe apiece for himself and his guest.

The logs were piled high upon the hearth, and the cheery blaze lit up

the old pictures with a shimmering lustre, reducing the lamp to a

mere spectral ornament. It was the flickering firelight that made the

men and women on the walls nod at each other, as perhaps they had

done in life.

They seated themselves in the spacious old leather-covered pew; Ah

Ben and Dorothy upon one side, while Paul sat opposite. The men were

soon engaged with their pipes, while Miss Guir had settled herself

upon a pile of cushions in the corner nearest the chimney.

"You have been absent from home to-day, I believe," said Henley to

the old man, by way of opening the conversation, and with the hope of

eliciting an answer which would throw some light upon his habits.

"Yes," Ah Ben replied, blowing a volume of smoke from under his long,

white moustache; "I seldom pass the entire day in this house. There

are few things that give me more pleasure than roaming alone through

the forest. One seems to come in closer touch with first principles.

Nature, Mr. Henley, must be courted to be comprehended."

"I suppose so," answered Paul, not knowing what else to say, and

wondering at the man's odd method of passing the time.

A long silence followed after this, only interrupted at intervals by

guttural mutterings from the parrot, which seemed to be lodged

somewhere in the upper regions of the obscure stairway. When the

clock struck eleven, the bird shrieked out, as upon the previous

night.