"Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed, tremulously. "What are you?"
Not a word escaped from the white figure, but it solemnly waved its hand.
"Are you a ghost?" asked the young man.
Jasper made a guttural noise and waved his arm again.
"Oh, Lord preserve me!" ejaculated the young man, shaking with terror. "Go away, do, good ghost! I haven't done anything!"
As he spoke he covered up his head with the bedclothes, and Jasper could see by the convulsive movements that he was in a state of the greatest agitation. Our hero felt inclined to laugh, but forebore. He considered whether it would be safe, disguised as he was, to make his way down stairs and out at the front door. But another course suddenly suggested itself. The young man looked good-natured. Why shouldn't he reveal himself to him, and throw himself upon him for protection? Besides, he was sorry to frighten him so much.
Acting upon his new resolution, he threw off the sheet and said in his natural voice:
"Don't be frightened. I am not a ghost."
The young man in bed took courage to uncover his head.
"Ain't you a spirit?" he said, doubtfully.