Reluctantly the landlord gave orders to prepare the haunted chamber.
Meantime I was enlightened by the other guests as to the nature of the ghostly visitant.
Every night at a certain hour a sepulchral voice was heard outside the casement, saying:
"Do you want to be shaved?"
"And then, what happens?" I demanded.
No one could certainly say.
The last gentleman who slept in the room had fled, shrieking, on hearing the voice, and had spent the rest of his days in an asylum.
Some said that if you allowed the ghostly barber to approach and commence operations on your chin, your throat would infallibly be cut.
Fortified by this information, I retired early to rest, leaving the company engaged in an exciting game at cards, each with his pile of cash on the table before him.