A few hours more and the mystery was solved by the startlingly sudden death of Mr. Woodd, from an attack of apoplexy. The Knocking Ghost of the Basil Woodds had lived up to its reputation. The giving of death warnings is by no means confined to family ghosts, as may be sufficiently indicated by relating an incident that happened in Canada some years ago, and that has always impressed me as one of the best ghost stories I have ever heard. It was told me by an actor in the strange little drama, and knowing as I do the persons concerned, I have not the slightest hesitation in vouching for its authenticity, incredible though the reader may be inclined to regard it. In this instance the ghost was seen by a clergyman, the Reverend John Langtry, who afterward became a prominent dignitary of the English Church in Canada. His home was in Toronto, but on the occasion of the ghostly visitation he was at the house of a Mr. and Mrs. Ruttan, who lived with their only child, a young girl, in a small town some fifty or sixty miles north of Toronto. Mr. Ruttan was another Church of England clergyman, and was a warm friend of Doctor Langtry's. This time, however, the latter had journeyed to see him simply on a matter of diocesan business, and was anxious to complete it and get back to Toronto. To his disappointment he found that Mr. Ruttan had been called out of town, and would not be home until a late hour, possibly not until the following day. On the chance that he might return earlier than expected, Doctor Langtry accepted Mrs. Ruttan's invitation to spend the evening with her. As they were chatting together--she being so seated that her back was toward the door leading from the parlor, whereas Doctor Langtry's position gave him a full view of the hall--she noticed that all at once he stopped in the middle of a sentence, leaned forward, and stared fixedly into the hall. She instantly turned her head, and followed the direction of his gaze, but could see nothing. "What is the matter, Doctor Langtry?" she asked. "What are you looking at?" "Nothing, nothing," he muttered, recovering himself with an effort. "I fancied for a moment--" He paused, then changed the conversation. But Mrs. Ruttan--from whom I got the story--saw that from time to time he glanced furtively into the hall, and finally half rose from his seat, his face white, his limbs trembling. "Doctor Langtry!" was her startled exclamation. "Are you ill? Whatever is the matter?" "Oh," he said shortly, "it is only a momentary faintness. I shall be all right presently. The fatigue of the journey must have unstrung me. I will trouble you to get me a glass of water, and then I think I will return to the hotel." He drank the water, and rose to go. But when near the front door, he turned to Mrs. Ruttan, and said: "I don't believe I have asked after your daughter. I trust she is well?" "She is quite well, thank you. I put her to bed just before you came in."