"What do you think of it?" asked Fritz in return, with a quivering of his right eyelid, which suspiciously resembled a wink.
"Ah, ah, knave!" cried Pierre Lamont, chuckling. "I half suspected you."
"You will not tell on me, Master Lamont?"
"Not I, fool. How did you contrive it?"
"With a white sheet and a lantern. I thought it a pity that my lady should be disappointed. Should she leave the place without some warranty that spirits are here, the house would lose its character. Then there is the young master, your Christian Almer. He spoke to me very much as if I were a beast of the field instead of a--fool. So I thought I would give him food for thought."
"A dangerous trick, Fritz. Your secret is safe with me, but I would not try it too often. Are there any books in the room? Look about, Fritz, look about."
"For books!" exclaimed Fritz. "People go to bed to sleep."
"I go to bed to think," retorted Pierre Lamont, "and read. People are idiots--they don't know how to use the nights."
"Men are not owls," said Fritz. "There are no books in the room."
"How shall I pass the night?" grumbled Pierre Lamont. "Open that drawer; there may be something to read in it."