"For pity's sake tell me what it is you want with me, and be done with it, can't you?" he cried angrily.
The ghost immediately stopped his gesticulations, and spoke. "Ezekiel Grosse," said he, in a hollow, ghostly voice, "Ezekiel Grosse, follow me. I can show you buried gold, the wealth for which thou longest."
Now no man in the world loved gold better than did the attorney, but he was anything but a brave man, and even he himself knew that he was not a good one, and the thought of going alone with this uncanny guide, to some desolate spot where no one could see or hear him if he called for help, made his teeth chatter and his knees tremble.
He hesitated, and gazed searchingly at the little old ghost, but to save his life he could not utter a word. He nearly suffocated with longing to possess the secret and know where the treasure lay, but he dared not ask; and all the time the spectre stood staring at him with unwinking scornful eyes, as if the sight of the cowardly, trembling man gave him unfeigned pleasure.
At length, beckoning Ezekiel to follow him, he turned and walked towards the door. Then Ezekiel, fearful of losing the secret and the wealth, threw aside every feeling but greed, and sprang to follow—at least, he tried to spring, but so firmly was he secured to his chair he could not budge.
"Come," said the ghost imperatively.
Ezekiel tried again, but great as was his longing to find the gold, he could not obey.
"Gold," whispered the ghost in a whining, craven tone, "don't you hear me, man? Gold!"
"Where?" gasped the lawyer, making another desperate struggle.
"Come with me, and you shall see," answered the spectre, moving further through the doorway; and the lawyer struggled like a madman to get free from the chair and to follow.