“No, sir I--at least I hope not, sir! But I went to call you at seven o’clock, as you told me, sir, and you weren’t in your room, and your bed hadn’t been slept in--and--I--er--didn’t know what to think, sir! I didn’t dare to come in here!” “I was busy,”--said Josiah, calmly--“Very busy!--tremendously busy all night! What time is it now?” “Nine o’clock, sir!” “And it’s Christmas Day, isn’t it?” “Yessir!” “Here’s a sovereign for you,”--and McNason handed that coin to his astonished retainer--“And just get someone to take this letter to Mr. Pitt’s house at once. It’s important.” “Yessir! Certainly, sir! Thank-you, sir! A Merry Christmas to you, sir!” “Thank-you! Same to you!” Backing deferentially out of his master’s presence, Towler ran downstairs as fast as he could into the servants’ hall, there announcing that “Something’s happened to the Governor! He’s too pleasant to last!” And McNason, still standing thoughtfully by his desk, repeated again in an undertone: “It was a Dream! It must have been a Dream!” “It WASN’T!” And a shrill falsetto voice rang clear on the silence. “Hoo-roo--oo--oo! Don’t you dare to call ME a Dream!” And with a violent shock of renewed terror McNason saw, poised between him and the sunlight which poured through the windows, the Goblin, shrunk in size to the smallest quaintest creature possible, holding over its strangely shaped head a sprig of holly, exactly as a man holds an open umbrella. “I’m going!” it said--“But don’t you be such a fool as to think yourself a Something and me a Nothing! You’ll make an awful mistake if you do!” “I’m sorry!” said McNason, humbly--“I don’t want to make any more mistakes----” “You’d better not!” said the Goblin, and its form began to grow more vague and indistinct--“You’ve got the chance you asked for--but if you lose it now----” “I won’t!” “What you would like to think was only a Dream, is a Supernatural Reality!” went on the Goblin; “It has all happened, or it _will_ happen if you don’t take care! If your mind breeds disease, so will your body,--and Sir Slasher will have to be called in! And if he’s once called in, YOU will be called OUT!” McNason shuddered,--but was silent. “You’ve begun to keep Christmas in the proper way for the first time in your life,”--and the Goblin’s voice grew fainter and fainter--“But if you don’t go on keeping it!----” “I will!” cried Josiah, eagerly--“I will!” “In the spirit of One Timothy Two?” “I will!” “Grace--mercy--peace!” The words floated on the air like a breath--and then, the Goblin turned its back and began to trot slowly away under its holly sunshade. Smaller and smaller it grew, till it looked no bigger than a tiny Christmas doll on a Christmas tree. And then all at once a shining tangle of golden curls and a glitter of sparkling eyes flashed against the window--a semi-circle of children pressed their round rosy faces close to the panes, and again began to sing: