Coming slowly across the room, straight towards me, was a man—ghost—oh, I don’t know what! I gave one horrified glance, then I jumped from the armchair and with one bound I was on the little bench, snuggled up to Clifford’s side. I didn’t realize it till I felt his arm—well, under the golf-cape! (That blessed old cape shall never go to the ragman, I assure you.)
I was none too soon, for as I sprang from the chair It slid into it. There he sat—a short, stocky figure, with grizzled hair and rough, toil-hardened hands. His eyes were dull and gazed straight into the fire.
I must confess I was the tiniest bit disappointed after that first glance. I had all my life longed to see a really, truly ghost, but this one was neither picturesque nor orthodox. Where was the white winding-sheet? He wore faded blue overalls and a red flannel shirt! As to the chill, I have felt that before.
For instance, when Clifford threw my ring away out, and I watched the widening circle where it fell, while he said bitterly, “There goes my faith in women,” I felt the very same creepy cold trickling down my back. I believe I even felt worse that time.
We all sat as if paralyzed. After a minute I gathered courage to glance up at Clifford’s face, and, do you know, he actually seemed to enjoy the situation! He looked down at me, and his eyes smiled—and I’m not sure but his lips did, as well. I know he didn’t seem a bit scared.
Jack certainly was white, though he scouted the idea afterwards, and the Professor’s face was like a great lump of beef suet.
After what seemed hours—and was probably only seconds—the apparition rose, glided back to the door, and disappeared.
Jack drew a long breath and finished making a cigarette, though I know his hand shook and made it hard work. The Professor gathered himself together, said “Lord bless my soul!”—it was as bad as swearing, the way he said it,—and raised a forefinger.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in a shaky half-whisper, “it would seem that we have just beheld something unusual and—er—startling.”
“Well, I should tell a man!” said Jack, glancing furtively over his shoulder as he drew a match along the edge of his chair.