Carl smiled and went inside. It was a curious, gruesome place, and the dank air was stifling. He climbed the stone steps upward until he came to a small room. The walls were bare but there were a bed and chairs and tables, all of oak, an iron ring in the wall, a rusty chain, and a padlock of huge size lay on the stone floor, unlocked. The slit in the wall gave enough light to see. Carl stood on a chair and looked out. He saw Tom, waved his hand, but there was no response. "He can't see me," thought Carl. "It's strange; he's looking straight here." There were more stairs. At the top he found another room exactly similar to the one below, furnished in the same bare way. In one corner he saw something gray. Examining it, it proved to be a flimsy gauze-like wrap; it was not old, nor torn. There was a white cloth, also a pair of soft slippers. "The ghost's attire," thought Carl. "Somebody comes here and frightens people. Wonder what for? Probably to scare 'em away for some purpose of his, or her, own. This is interesting." He replaced the garment, letting it fall and arranging it as nearly as possible as he found it. He went down again, feeling the wall as he descended. It was damp; drops stood out, burst and trickled down. He found the stone steps leading to the dungeon under the moat; they were smooth, broken in places. He was careful in stepping; a slip and he might be landed at the bottom with a sprained ankle, a broken leg, or worse. It was a slippery descent; once or twice he fell down; but he intended seeing what was at the bottom and at last succeeded. The dark dungeon had a curious odor in it, probably due to the water and lack of fresh air; but there was a scent undefinable as well. He struck a match; it went out immediately, just as though somebody, or something, had blown upon it. He was not a nervous man, but when the second and third match went out in the same way he was inclined to beat a retreat. "One more try," he thought, and struck three or four wax matches at once; this proved effective and gave him time to see in the corner, propped up, what looked like the body of a man. He must be mistaken; he lit more matches, dropping the others on the floor, where they spluttered in the wet and fizzled out.