It did not spring up, it merely stood just enough away from the box for Rupert to put his fingers under it and lift it out bodily. A low groan of disappointment escaped us all. They had pulled my chair close to the chest, and I was able to look into it as well, and certainly shared in the groan. I can't say what we had expected. It may have been gold, it may have been treasures of another kind. Most certainly we none of us had expected to see a few packets of papers, yellow with age, and covered with dust.
So engrossed had we been that we had not noticed a step in the room; and when Rupert raised himself from the chest with a bundle of papers in his hand, declaring he would take them to uncle, my blood seemed to stand still and my heart almost to jump into my mouth when a voice, with a strong French accent, said—
"Not too fast, young gentleman; those papers belong to me."
"NOT TOO FAST, YOUNG GENTLEMAN; THOSE PAPERS BELONG TO ME."
By the side of my couch, almost touching me, stood the man whom we had named Jack's Ghost!
