As I rose to get my towel I said with cutting sarcasm:
“I don’t care about the bet, but I’ll just show you that everyone isn’t afraid of his own shadow; though,” I added forgetfully, “it’s rather an unreasonable time to bathe.”
Here Frenchy struck a stage attitude, and said innocently:
“Ah! vat a night foor ze bade!”
The shout of laughter that greeted this sally was more than enough to decide me, and I went off in search of a towel.
Harding, I could see, did not like the idea, and tried to persuade me to give it up; but that was out of the question.
“Mind,” said he, “I’m no believer in ghosts; yet,” he added, with rather a forced laugh, “this is the anniversary, and you know it’s uncanny.”
I quite agreed with him, but dared not say so, and I pretended to laugh it off. I was ready in a few moments, and then a rather happy idea, as I thought, struck me, and I called out:
“Who’s coming to see that I win my bet?”
“Oh, we know we can trust you, old chap!” said Jim with exaggerated politeness. “It’d be a pity, you know, to outnumber the ghost.”