Dinner was now served. We dined alone, and, in the intervals when the footman was out of the room, I seized the opportunity to probe further into the mystery of the haunted house. "The ghosts," I said, "have not appeared. Neither in my own apartment, nor in the corridors, nor in the various empty rooms which I have visited, have I seen or heard anything to suggest that the house is haunted." "May I ask," said my companion, "for the grounds of your statement that so far the ghost has failed to appear?" "Save for yourself," I answered, "the only person I have seen since entering is the footman." "And how do you know that the footman is not a ghost?" "Why," said I, "he carried my bag upstairs, and pocketed the balance of half a crown I gave him to pay for a telegram." "I never heard a feebler argument," he replied. "It is obvious that you resemble the majority of mankind, who, if they were to see a thousand ghosts every day, would never recognise one of them for what it was. Now, as to the footman----" But at that moment the individual in question entered the room bringing coffee and cigars. When he had gone Panhandle resumed: "We were speaking of the footman. But perhaps it would be wiser to deal with the matter in general terms. I have already said enough to satisfy any reasonable judge of evidence that this is a genuinely haunted house. I have now to add that a doubt may be raised as to _who is the haunter and who the haunted_." I sat silent, staring at Panhandle with wide eyes of astonishment, for I had no universe of discourse to which I could relate the strange things I was hearing. He went on: "From what I have told you already you have no doubt drawn the inference that the ghosts are haunting _me_. But the ghosts themselves are not of that mind. In their opinion it is I who am haunting _them_. My first discovery of this, which is destined to revolutionise the whole theory of ghosts, was made under circumstances which I will now relate. * * * * * "Many years ago I was seated in the library late one night engaged in writing a report of certain mysterious phenomena which had been observed in this house. I had just completed a copy of the signed evidence of the cook, the gardener, and the housemaid, all of whom had left that day without notice in consequence of something they alleged they had seen. Suddenly I thought I heard a whispered voice from the further side of the room, and looking up I saw seated at a table two beings of human semblance, who were gazing intently in my direction. "'Do you not see something on yonder chair?' asked one. "'Yes,' answered the other, 'I certainly see something. Probably a gleam of light. Observe, the curtains are not quite closed, and this is about the time when they turn on the searchlight at the barracks. Draw the curtains close and it will instantly disappear.'