“Shelby,” said he, belief showing all over his face, “I’ve seen a ghost!” A strong desire to laugh was upon me, but I did not let it best me, for I had respect for Belt, who was my superior officer. I don’t believe in ghosts; they never come to see me. “You’re sick, and you’ve been dreaming, lieutenant,” I said. “Go to sleep.” “I’ll try to go to sleep,” he replied, “but what I say is truth, and I’ve seen a ghost.” “What did it look like?” I asked, remembering that it is best to fall in with the humor of mad people. “Like a woman,” he replied, “and that’s all I can say on that point, for this cursed fever has drawn a veil over my eyes. I had shut them, trying to go to sleep, but something kept pulling my eyelids apart, and open they came again; there was the ghost, the ghost of a woman; it had come through the wall, I suppose. It floated all around the room as if it were looking for something, but not making a breath of a noise, like a white cloud sailing through the air. I tell you, Shelby, I was in fear, for I had never believed in such things, and I had laughed at them.” “What became of the ghost?” I asked. “It went away just like it came, through the wall, I guess,” said Belt. “All I know is that I saw it, and then I didn’t. And I want you to stay with me, Shelby; don’t leave me!” This time I laughed, and on purpose. I wanted to chirk Belt up a bit, and I thought I could do it by ridiculing such a fever dream. But I could not shake the conviction in him. Instead, his temper took heat at my lack of faith. Then I affected to believe, which soothed him, and exhaustion falling upon him I saw that either he would slumber again or weakness would steal his senses. I thought to ease his mind, and told him everything outside was going well; that Whitestone was the best sentinel in the world, and not even a lizard could creep past him though the night might be black as coal. Whereat he smiled, and presently turning over on his side began to mutter, by which I knew that a hot sleep was again laying hold of him. After the rain it had turned very warm again, and I opened the window for unbreathed air. Belt’s request that I stay with him, given in a sort of delirium though it was, made good excuse for my remaining. If ever he said anything about it I could allege his own words. The candle burned down more on one side than on the other and its blaze leaned over like a man sick. It served but to distort. I looked at Belt and wondered why the mind too should grow weak, as it most often does when disease lays hold of the body. In his healthy senses, Belt--who, like most New Englanders, believed only what he saw--would have jeered at the claims of a ghost. There was little credulity in that lank, bony frame.