The Ghost of Guir House

"Time!" said Henley, with an amused expression. "I thought you told

me that time was only a mental condition!"

"True, I did," said Ah Ben, with a return of the same inexpressibly

sad look; "but did I tell you that it had ceased to belong to me?"

There was no intimation of reproof, no endeavor to evade the remark;

but Paul could not but observe the change in the man's manner as they

retraced their steps. Indeed, he was conscious of an overpowering

sadness himself, as he turned his back upon the strange scene.

"Come!" said Ah Ben, with authority, leading the way.

They passed up the grand stairway to the terrace, entering the room

at the same window by which they had left it, and Ah Ben closed the

sash and drew the curtains behind them.

A moment later Paul went to the window and looked out. There was an

old moon, and the forest beneath lay bathed in its mellow light. The

sudden transition to his former state was no less astounding than the

first.

"Which, think you, is the most real," asked the old man, "the scene

before us now, or the one we have left behind?"

Paul could not answer. He was revolving in his mind the marvels he

had just witnessed. He could not understand how hypnotism could have

created such a world as he had just beheld. It was not a whit less

tangible, visible, or audible than that in which he had always lived,

and he could not help looking upon Ah Ben as a creature far removed

from his own sphere of life. How had the man acquired such powers?

These and other thoughts were rushing through his mind. Presently his

host touched him lightly upon the shoulder, and said: "Come, let us descend into the hall again, and finish our pipes."

And so they wandered back through the silent house to the old pew by

the fire; and Ah Ben, stirring up the embers and adding fresh fuel,

said: "Although it is late, Mr. Henley, I do not feel inclined for bed; and

if you are of the same mind, should be glad of your company."

Paul was glad of an excuse to sit up, and so settled himself upon the

sofa, absorbed in meditation. The firelight flickered over their

faces and the strange pictures on the wall, and the head of Tsong

Kapa shone more plainly than ever before. The portraits on the stairs

were as weird and incomprehensible as they had appeared on the first

night of his arrival; and the old man and the girl, and their strange

life, seemed even more deeply involved in mystery than they had upon

that occasion. Paul was now beset with conflicting emotions. The

gloom of the house was more oppressive than before; and were it not

for his sudden and unaccountable affection for Dorothy, he might have

left it at once, had it not again been for the vision of splendor and

happiness just faded from his sight. He could not bear the thought of

losing forever the sensation of life and power and ecstasy just

beginning to dawn upon him, when so cruelly snatched away; and but

for Ah Ben he knew he should hope in vain for its return. Naturally,

his emotions were strong and tearing him in opposite directions. The

old man perceiving the depression of spirits into which his guest had

fallen, reminded him gently of his warning regarding the shock of

occult manifestation to those who were unprepared.