One week we had been so much more than usually annoyed by the dancing of tables, shaking of doors, and breaking of crockery, that I lost all patience, and at length vehemently dared our unseen tormentors to show themselves.
"Who and what are you?" I cried, "destroying the peace of my family in this unendurable fashion. If you are mortal man, I will meet you as mortal man. Whatever you are, in the name of all fairness, let me see you!"
"If you see me it will be death to you," tapped the Invisible.
"Then let it be death to me! Come on! When shall I have the pleasure of an interview?"
"To-morrow night at six o'clock."
"To-morrow at six, then, be it."
And to-morrow at six it was. Allis had a headache, and was lying down upstairs. Miss Fellows and I were with her, busy with cologne and tea, and one thing and another. I had, in fact, forgotten all about my superhuman appointment, when, just as the clock struck six, a low cry from Miss Fellows arrested my attention.
"I see it!" she said.
"See what?"
"A tall man wrapped in a sheet."