He insisted that it was only for a moment. Something, he could not say what, caused him to open his eyes again immediately. The closing of them seemed to have improved what may be called his dark sight. He saw everything in the Church quite distinctly, in a sort of grey light. The pulpit stood out, large and bulky, in front. Beyond that, he passed his eyes along the four windows on the north side of the Church. He looked again at the stars, still visible through the nearest window on his left hand as he was sitting. From that, his eyes fell to the further end of the seat in front of him, where he could even see a faint gleam of polished wood. He traced this gleam to the middle of the seat, until it disappeared in black shadow, and upon that his eye passed on to the seat he was in, and there he saw a man sitting beside him. Caleb described the man very clearly. He was, he said, a pale, old-fashioned looking man, with something very churchy about him. Reasoning also with great clearness, he said that the stranger had not come into the Church either with him or after him, and that therefore he must have been there before him. And in that case, seeing that the Church had been locked since two in the afternoon, the stranger must have been there for a considerable time. Caleb was puzzled; turning therefore, to the stranger, he asked, "How long have you been here?" The stranger answered at once, "Six hundred years." "Oh! come!" said Caleb. "Come where?" said the stranger. "Well, if you come to that, come out," said Caleb. "I wish I could," said the stranger, and heaved a great sigh. "What's to prevent you?" said Caleb. "There's the door, and here's the key." "That's it," said the other. "Of course it is," said Caleb. "Come along." With that he proceeded to take the stranger by the sleeve, and then it was that he says you might have knocked him down with a feather. His hand went right into the place where the sleeve seemed to be, and Caleb distinctly saw two of the stranger's buttons on the top of his own knuckles. He hastily withdrew his hand, which began to feel icy cold, and sat still, not knowing what to say next. He found that the stranger was gently chuckling with laughter, and this annoyed him. "What are you laughing at?" he enquired peevishly. "It's not funny enough for two," answered the other. "Who are you, anyhow?" said Caleb. "I am the kirk spook," was the reply. Now Caleb had not the least notion what a "kirk spook" was. He was not willing to admit his ignorance, but his curiosity was too much for his pride, and he asked for information. "Every Church has a spook," said the stranger, "and I am the spook of this one." "Oh," said Caleb, "I've been about this Church a many years, but I've never seen you before." "That," said the spook, "is because you've always been moving about. I'm very flimsy--very flimsy indeed--and I can only keep myself together when everything is quite still."