"You certainly have, and it was his father: he was a silent, whimsical man, and he used to bore my father about his dreams, and at last he told him a story about a ghost he had seen and talked with, and a very odd story it was. I remember it particularly, because I was so afraid of him. This story was long before he died—when I was quite a child—and his ways were so silent and moping, and he used to drop in, sometimes, in the dusk, when I was alone in the drawing-room, and I used to fancy there were ghosts about him."
I smiled and nodded.
"And now having established my character as a conjurer I think I must say good-night," said I.
"But how did you find it out?"
"By the planets of course, as the gipsies do," I answered, and so, gaily, we said good-night.
Next morning I sent the little book he had
