“‘I know that Henry Clay fought his duel with John Randolph, of Roanoke. I know that Commodore Barron killed Commodore Decatur in a duel. General Jackson killed Dixon in a duel. Prentiss wounded Foote in a duel. General Sam Houston shot General White in a duel. I know that General Albert Sidney Johnson shot his man in a duel. Aaron Burr killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel. I know that Chambers killed Lake in a duel. The world did not condemn these men for fighting duels, and why should it single me out as an especial object for condemnation?’
“‘Well, Harry, you can’t deny making me a solemn promise that you would not seek a quarrel with Bowles until after Viola’s trial.’
“‘I believe I did make such a promise; but I trust you will release me from it, as things have changed so greatly since it was made.’
“‘No, you must wait until after the trial, and then I will withdraw all objections to your management of Bowles.’
“‘On one condition, I will renew the promise.’
“‘What’s that?’
“‘You are to agree not to interfere with me and my plans for a settlement with Bowles after Viola’s trial is over.’
“‘I make the promise on those terms. Now you had better go home, change your dress and seek rest, for you appear greatly wearied.’
“He left my office then with an unsteady step, and I did not see him any more that day. Another source of trouble now began to lower in my pathway. Coming from an unexpected direction, so far as it affected me individually, it was greater than any I had ever before experienced. Trouble divested of mystery may be endured, but when it takes us by surprise, and we feel the blow, but know not who dealt it, it is somewhat hard to bear. Such was the blow that fell on me. I could feel it, but couldn’t see it. An impenetrable cloud of mystery began to gather around me, mixing itself up with all matters in which I was interested. Something near two hundred yards east of Mr. Rockland’s residence, and on the same side of the street, was a small, two-story brick dwelling-house, situated in the middle of a small inclosure, containing, I suppose, about a quarter of an acre of ground. The plot of land was inclosed with pine plank, not over three and a half feet high. That part of the lot which lay in front of the house, constituting the front yard, was thickly set with short, untrimmed shrubbery, while the other had been used as a vegetable garden. There were only four rooms in the house, two in the lower and two in the upper story, and a narrow hall separated the two lower rooms; a pair of steep stairs commenced on the lower floor near the door and ended on the back side of the house, on the upper floor. The building itself stood in a low, flat place, surrounded with rising ground on all sides, and particularly in the rear, where a tall bluff rose up fully as high as the top of the house. The low, marshy ground where the building was located, and the unsightly surroundings, rendered it very undesirable as a residence; I suppose it was owing to this fact that it was most of the time unoccupied. There were no locks to the doors, and the house had for a long time been uninhabited, save by some lonely tramp who now and then sought a night’s lodging in it.
“‘I have thought it expedient to give a minute description of this dismal old house, because it has somewhat to do with my history. About the time Harry returned from California, a rumor began to circulate among the negroes (who are by nature very superstitious) to the effect that the house was haunted by ghostly visitors every night. Of course this story was not believed by any except very ignorant persons; but the matter began to attract some attention, nevertheless, because those who did not believe in ghosts were of the opinion that perhaps the house was being used by thieves and counterfeiters. At any rate, it was very certain that one of the upper rooms was occupied every night by some one, for a dim light was often seen gliding about the apartment. This mysterious circumstance was the usual topic of conversation among Mr. Rockland’s servants. The coachman was an old, gray-headed negro named Zack. He was as full of superstitions as he could be crammed, and he vowed that he had seen a ghost, all robed in white, with long, black hair streaming down her back, and a face as white as snow. One evening I met Harry in the street, not very far from the mysterious house; he cast on me an inquiring look, and spoke as if irritated about something.