'And you really think the tile which you have dug up from below the foundation in the cellar, to be of the date of Julius Caesar; and infer from it that a roof has sheltered this spot for two thousand years? It is a hallowed thought to reflect upon the crowd of spirits which must hover over and around us, if we suppose, as some do, that when we leave this tabernacle of clay, we shall continue to linger in the midst of our old haunts; and that these spirits are the unseen and unfelt witnesses of our every act. It may be mere fancy, but I am inclined to think there is more truth in the thought than cold philosophy is willing to admit.' 'Then, Sir, you are a believer in ghosts?' observed Boniface. 'Why, no; I cannot say truly that I am, though I have oftentimes longed to make an acquaintance with one. By the way, I should think this building of nooks and corners was admirably adapted for the carrying out some marvel of the sort. Pray, is there not some hobgoblin or merry sprite playing his antics about your premises, my worthy host?' Hereupon Boniface looked doubtingly, and feeling his way before committing himself, he at last admitted that 'there was some idle story of the kind, but for his part, he put no faith in such silly things.' 'Well, of course,' said his guest, 'it must be some particular room that is thus honored?' 'Well?' was the deferential rejoinder, in a tone denoting a wish to hear the deduction. 'Then, if it is a bed-chamber, snug and comfortable, do me the favor to apportion it to me for the night.' 'Most certainly, if you are serious,' rejoined Boniface; 'it shall be made ready immediately; but I assure you that my patrons seldom give it the preference.' Hereupon the bell was rung, and the waiter presenting himself, was requested to direct the chamber-maid to prepare the large room, and to see that the bed was well aired, and to tell Boots to take the gentleman's trunk up, to kindle a fire, and to see that every thing was tidy.