The truth in a moment now flashed across Gray’s mind, and he cursed himself bitterly for allowing his fears to cause him so much uneasiness and terror as they had done. He, then, on the instant, thought of a scheme to escape from the surgeon’s house without molestation, and turning to the lady, he said in a solemn voice,—
“Do you know me?”
“No—no.”
“I have just come down stairs out of the cupboard. I am Job Magnus.”
“Mercy upon us!” cried the lady—“Oh! Have mercy upon us—our Father which art in heaven.”
“Hush!” cried Gray, “don’t be mumbling there, but listen to me. If you so much as speak one word, or stir from whence you are for the next hour and a half, I’ll come down the chimney and strangle you.”
“Please, Mr. Ghost, spare my sinful life, and I won’t move. I’ll confess all—Thomas ain’t that wretched husband’s of mine—he’s—he’s—I’m quite sure—”
“Bush,” said Gray, with a menacing gesture, “do you imagine I want to hear what, as a spirit, I know already?”
The corpulent lady groaned as she said,—
“Then you know all about the barber?”