What might have been the dull reverberation of a closing door in the direction of the housekeeper’s room, on the lower story, was all he heard. He smiled, for even that, natural as it might be, was less distinct and real than his absurd vision.

Nevertheless the next afternoon he concluded to walk over to Audley Friars for his Christmas dinner. Its hospitable master greeted him cordially.

“But do you know, my dear fellow,” he said, when they were alone for a moment, “if you hadn’t come by yourself I’d have sent over there for you. The fact is that A– wrote to us that you were down at Stukeley alone, ghost-hunting or something of that sort, and I’m afraid it leaked out among the young people of our party. Two of our girls—I shan’t tell you which—stole over there last night to give you a start of some kind. They didn’t see you at all, but, by Jove, it seems they got the biggest kind of a fright THEMSELVES, for they declare that something dreadful in armor, you know, was sitting in the gallery. Awfully good joke, wasn’t it? Of course YOU didn’t see anything,—did you?”

“No,” said the Barbarian, discreetly.