But, as I reascended the staircase, I was not satisfied either with my own half-formed solution of the mystery, or my servant’s reception of my rebuke. He evidently would prefer dismissal to passing such another night. I could read the resolution in his face, although he had not expressed it in so many words. When I reached my wife’s room, I was still more surprised. Janie and the child lay in a profound slumber. I had expected to find both of them in a state of anxious terror to learn the meaning of the noise that was going on below; but they had evidently heard nothing. This welcome fact, however, only tended to confirm me in the belief I had commenced to entertain, of the whole circumstance being due to some, perhaps yet undiscovered, phase of brain reading, and I fell to sleep, resolved to make a deeper study of the marvels propounded by Mesmer and Kant. When I awoke, with the bright June sun streaming in at the windows, I had naturally parted with much of the impression of the night before. It is hard to associate any gloomy or unnatural thoughts with the unlimited glory of the summer’s sunshine, that streams into every nook and cranny, and leaves no shadows anywhere. On this particular morning it seemed to have cleared the cobwebs off all our brains. The child had forgotten all about the occurrence of the night. I was, as usual, ready to laugh away all ghostly fears and fancies; and even Janie seemed to regard the matter as one of little moment. “What was the matter last night, Arthur, dear?” she asked, when the subject recurred to her memory. “I was so sleepy I couldn’t keep awake till you came up again.” “Didn’t you hear the fearful battle I held with the goblins in the hall?” I demanded, gaily, though I put the question with a purpose--“the shots that were exchanged between us, and the groans of the defeated, as they slunk away into their haunted coal-cellars and cupboards?” “Arthur, what nonsense! Was there any noise?” “Well, I frightened Dawson, and Dawson frightened me; and we squabbled over it for the best part of an hour. I thought our talking might have disturbed you.” “Indeed, it didn’t, then. But don’t mention it before Cissy, Arthur, even in fun, for she declares she heard some one walking about the room, and I want her to forget it.” I dropped the subject; but meeting Dawson as I was smoking my pipe in the garden that afternoon, I ventured to rally him on his fright of the night before, and to ask if he hadn’t got over it by that time. “No, sir; and I never shall,” he replied, with a sort of shiver. “And I only hope you may come to be convinced of the truth of it before it’s too late to prevent harm you may never cease to repent of.” There was so much respectful earnestness in the man’s manner, that I could not resent his words nor laugh at them, as I had done before; and I passed by him in thoughtful silence.