“For a long time we sat in front of the fire chatting, but at one o’clock Ralph got up, and exclaimed that it was high time we turned into bed.
“‘Hullo, look at Greg!’ he said, pointing to the dog, who was crouching on the floor in front of the door showing its teeth in a series of savage growls. ‘What’s the matter with him?’
“Before I had time to reply, we suddenly heard a regular, measured tap, tap, tap, as of high-heeled shoes, coming along the corridor towards our door.
“‘That can’t be either the caretaker or his wife,’ Ralph whispered. ‘I wonder if it’s the young lady! Perhaps she’s going to pay us a surreptitious visit. I only wish she would—the little darling!’
“Nearer and nearer came the steps, until they seemed to stop just outside our door. Greg’s hair bristled, he gave a deep growl, and retreated half way across the room. Then there came a loud knock on the door, followed by the sound of a violent scuffle. Springing forward, Ralph threw the door wide open. There was nothing there, only the cold light of the moon, and the white, motionless faces of the Dennings’ ancestors hanging on the walls.
“‘It’s deuced odd,’ Ralph said. ‘I swear I heard steps and a knock, and yet there’s nothing to account for it. Could it have been rats?’
“‘I don’t think so,’ I said; ‘rats wouldn’t have frightened Greg. Look at him now; he has quite recovered.’ Greg had come to my side and was licking my hand and wagging his tail.
“In the morning I asked the caretaker’s wife if the place was haunted.
“‘Haunted,’ she stammered. ‘No. Whatever made you think of such a thing, sir! There ain’t no such things as ghosts. It’s them howls you ’eard.’