Just as I was about to leave I distinctly heard the words, “Good Evening!” uttered in a thin, quiet voice. I looked around the room but could see nobody. “Here I am, up here,” continued the voice. I saw what appeared to be the face of a very pleasant and dignified old man, who seemed to be sitting on the stairs near the top of the room, just above the wreaths of disappearing vapor. The smoky waves apparently continued through the stairway and enveloped all of him except the head--or rather he seemed gradually to materialize out of the wreaths, for the head was the only part of the apparition that bore any semblance to reality. There were misty forms suggesting the shoulders, but they faded off down into the cloudy lines, which now seemed to have ceased rising and were slowly waving to and fro, as if they were suspended from something above and were being gently swayed by a current of air. “Good evening,” I replied, not without some trepidation. “I hope I have not intruded. I had no idea that there was anybody here when I came in.” “There isn’t anybody here but you,” continued the strange voice, “for according to your standards I am nobody at all; I am a ghost, but you needn’t be at all alarmed. If you’ll go over and make yourself comfortable on that empty box near the other wall we can have a nice little visit. I have not appeared to a mortal for a long time and it’s a relief to have somebody to talk to. Since I’ve been haunting this tower I’ve stayed in a little crypt I have down under it. I ooze up through that small hole that you see near the base of that stanchion, and I was just coming up when you happened in. It takes me some little time to get properly settled up here, or I would have made my presence known before. I am not quite settled yet, but as you evidently intended to leave I thought I had better make myself known before it was too late. Otherwise I would have had to wait until some other Christmas eve, for that’s the only time I ever visualize. I’ll tell you the reason of this later. Just remain quiet where you are and excuse me. I won’t be gone more than a few minutes.” With that the nebulous shape above the stairs changed somewhat. It became a little lighter and the face was more distinct. The wraithy vapor lengthened out and all of it, with the head at its upper end, drifted silently up through the stairway hole into the gloom above as gently and softly as the smoke from a pipe.