“I’ll sit with you,” continued the young man. “If he’s a civil ghost, we can hear what he has got to say; for
‘The darkest nicht I fear nae deil,
Warlock, nor witch in Gowrie.’”
Very reluctantly John consented; but he did consent; and that night the two met in the haunted chamber alone, just before the old clock on the stair told the hour of midnight.
“What have you got under your arm?” inquired the student.
“The ha’ Bible,” replied John, in a sepulchral voice; “is that a Bible you’ve brought?”
“No, it’s whisky,” said the student, “about the only spirit you are likely to see to-night; and there won’t be the ghost of that left by cock-crow.”
So they waited and watched, John reading, the student smoking steadily and drinking periodically. One o’clock came, and two o’clock, and the candle was burning low in the socket, when suddenly, “Hist!” said the student, and “Hush!” said John. They could distinctly hear footsteps about them in the room, but no one visible. They were really frightened now. Then something rushed past them, and the bell rang, and there, lo, and behold! from the rope dangled John’s decent tabby cat.
“And the Lord’s name be praised,” said John piously, closing the book.
“Such ghosts as these,” said the student, “are best exorcised with a broom-handle; but, see! this explains.” He held up the rope, to the end of which—country fashion—was attached a hare’s foot!