CHAPTER I.
The Phantom Flea.—The Lawyer's Story.[1]
One morning, many years ago, whilst sitting idly in my chambers in town, I received a letter from Baron —— to come down for a few days to his country seat in ——shire. It was on business he wanted me; he had got involved in some quarrel. The case was about to be brought before the court, and the Baron wanted a legal adviser.
[1] In the spirit world all those who have been bloodthirsty to excess inhabit the forms of fleas.—William Blake, Poet and Visionary. (Quoted from memory.)
Having heard much of my abilities, as he said, he thought he could not do better than write to me at once. He regretted that business would prevent him from being at the Hall on my arrival, but he hoped to return home some time the next day. In the meantime he had told his housekeeper to make up a bed for me at the Hall, and had left open his bookcase, lest the time might hang heavy on my hands.
Glad of an excuse to leave town, as it was getting very hot and I had nothing to do, I took the stage, and towards the middle of the next day found myself in front of the Baron's country seat.
It was a fine, stately mansion, surrounded by a moat. I crossed the drawbridge, and inquired whether the Baron was at home. A respectable matron answered the door. She replied in the negative to my question.
Then, asking if I were Mr. Hardcase, the lawyer, and learning that I was, she said "The Baron left word that he would be at home some time to-morrow, or the day after for certain; that in the meantime you were to make yourself quite at home, sir."
"Oh, very well," said I; "I am rather tired just at present. Leave me here among the Baron's books. When I have sufficiently rested I should like to look over the house. It seems a curious old place."
"Yes, sir, it is a very old place," said the housekeeper. "But wouldn't you like to take a little refreshment first?"