_August 7th._—Was on the roof again all last night. If, under the pursuit of knowledge, it were only allowable for me to fall asleep, it would be much pleasanter than remaining downstairs. Towards three o’clock I thought I had caught the ghost; for I distinctly saw a ‘tall figure, dressed all in white,’ hovering about the graves; but it proved to be only an early milkman, going to recover his cows from their jungle pasture-ground, who thought to make a short-cut by passing through our compound. This was provoking, after I had taken the trouble to rush down after him, stick in hand, fully prepared to administer a wholesome castigation. But this fact tends still more to confirm me in my belief that what Janie saw was a native wandering about in the moonlight after his own business. All domestic servants, and a good many other classes, habitually wear white clothing; and nothing would be easier, when the imagination is in a heated and unnatural condition, than for one to mistake their appearance for that of a ghost. However, I shall not yet give up my search for the delinquent. _August 9th._—I have now watched four nights without seeing anything, and I am beginning to get rather tired of the joke. If the ghost doesn’t soon make his or her appearance, I shall resume my lawful place of rest, and wait patiently until it sees fit to call upon me. _August 10th._—At last I have seen the so-called phantom; and had it been a lost spirit sent from the nethermost hell to inform me of my future fate, my hand could hardly shake more than it does now, in recalling the recollection. But not for the reason which made its appearance one of terror to the native servants and to my poor Janie. My terror, my horror, and my shrinking arise from a totally different cause, and make me wonder, as I write, that I should have heard what I heard last night, and live to repeat it. I wish I had not lived; I wish that I were dead!