Whenhespokeagainitwasclearthathisformersweethearthadcleanvanishedfromhismind，andthatthetalkhadbroughtbacktheFairyLadytriumphantinhisheart。Hetalkedofher——soonhewaslettingouttheoddestthings，queerlovesecretsitwouldbetreacherytorepeat。Ithink，indeed，thatwasthequeerestthinginthewholeaffair，tohearthatneatlittlegrocermanafterhisstorywasdone，withaglassofwhiskybesidehimandacigarbetweenhisfingers，witnessing，withsorrowstill，thoughnow，indeed，withatime-bluntedanguish，oftheinappeasablehungeroftheheartthatpresentlycameuponhim。“Icouldn’teat，“hesaid，“Icouldn’tsleep。Imademistakesinordersandgotmixedwithchange。Thereshewasdayandnight，drawingmeanddrawingme。Oh，Iwantedher。Lord！howIwantedher！Iwasupthere，mosteveningsIwasupthereontheKnoll，oftenevenwhenitrained。IusedtowalkovertheKnollandrounditandroundit，callingforthemtoletmein。Shouting。NearblubberingIwasattimes。DaftIwasandmiserable。Ikeptonsayingitwasallamistake。AndeverySundayafternoonIwentupthere，wetandfine，thoughIknewaswellasyoudoitwasn’tnogoodbyday。AndI’vetriedtogotosleepthere。“
Hestoppedsharplyanddecidedtodrinksomewhisky。
“I’vetriedtogotosleepthere，“hesaid，andIcouldswearhislipstrembled。“I’vetriedtogotosleepthere，oftenandoften。And，youknow，Icouldn’t，sir——never。I’vethoughtifIcouldgotosleepthere，theremightbesomething。ButI’vesatupthereandlaidupthere，andIcouldn’t——notforthinkingandlonging。It’sthelonging……I’vetried——“
Heblew，drankuptherestofhiswhiskyspasmodically，stoodupsuddenlyandbuttonedhisjacket，staringcloselyandcriticallyatthecheapoleographsbesidethemantelmeanwhile。Thelittleblacknotebookinwhichherecordedtheordersofhisdailyroundprojectedstifflyfromhisbreastpocket。Whenallthebuttonswerequitedone，hepattedhischestandturnedonmesuddenly。“Well，“
hesaid，“Imustbegoing。“
Therewassomethinginhiseyesandmannerthatwastoodifficultforhimtoexpressinwords。“Onegetstalking，“hesaidatlastatthedoor，andsmiledwanly，andsovanishedfrommyeyes。
AndthatisthetaleofMr。SkelmersdaleinFairylandjustashetoldittome。
ThesceneamidstwhichClaytontoldhislaststorycomesbackveryvividlytomymind。Therehesat，forthegreaterpartofthetime，inthecorneroftheauthenticsettlebythespaciousopenfire，andSandersonsatbesidehimsmokingtheBroseleyclaythatborehisname。
TherewasEvans，andthatmarvelamongactors，Wish，whoisalsoamodestman。WehadallcomedowntotheMermaidClubthatSaturdaymorning，exceptClayton，whohadsleptthereovernight——whichindeedgavehimtheopeningofhisstory。Wehadgolfeduntilgolfingwasinvisible；wehaddined，andwewereinthatmoodoftranquilkindlinesswhenmenwillsufferastory。WhenClaytonbegantotellone，wenaturallysupposedhewaslying。Itmaybethatindeedhewaslying——ofthatthereaderwillspeedilybeabletojudgeaswellasI。
Hebegan，itistrue，withanairofmatter-of-factanecdote，butthatwethoughtwasonlytheincurableartificeoftheman。
“Isay！“heremarked，afteralongconsiderationoftheupwardrainofsparksfromthelogthatSandersonhadthumped，“youknowIwasaloneherelastnight？“
“Exceptforthedomestics，“saidWish。
“Whosleepintheotherwing，“saidClayton。“Yes。Well——“Hepulledathiscigarforsomelittletimeasthoughhestillhesitatedabouthisconfidence。Thenhesaid，quitequietly，“Icaughtaghost！“
“Caughtaghost，didyou？“saidSanderson。“Whereisit？“
AndEvans，whoadmiresClaytonimmenselyandhasbeenfourweeksinAmerica，shouted，“CAUGHTaghost，didyou，Clayton？I’mgladofit！Tellusallaboutitrightnow。“
Claytonsaidhewouldinaminute，andaskedhimtoshutthedoor。
Helookedapologeticallyatme。“There’snoeavesdroppingofcourse，butwedon’twanttoupsetourveryexcellentservicewithanyrumoursofghostsintheplace。There’stoomuchshadowandoakpanellingtotriflewiththat。Andthis，youknow，wasn’taregularghost。
Idon’tthinkitwillcomeagain——ever。“
“Youmeantosayyoudidn’tkeepit？“saidSanderson。
“Ihadn’ttheheartto，“saidClayton。
AndSandersonsaidhewassurprised。
Welaughed，andClaytonlookedaggrieved。“Iknow，“hesaid，withtheflickerofasmile，“butthefactisitreallyWASaghost，andI’massureofitasIamthatIamtalkingtoyounow。I’mnotjoking。ImeanwhatIsay。“
Sandersondrewdeeplyathispipe，withonereddisheyeonClayton，andthenemittedathinjetofsmokemoreeloquentthanmanywords。
Claytonignoredthecomment。“Itisthestrangestthingthathaseverhappenedinmylife。Youknow，Ineverbelievedinghostsoranythingofthesort，before，ever；andthen，youknow，Ibagoneinacorner；andthewholebusinessisinmyhands。“
Hemeditatedstillmoreprofoundly，andproducedandbegantopierceasecondcigarwithacuriouslittlestabberheaffected。
“Youtalkedtoit？“askedWish。
“Forthespace，probably，ofanhour。“
“Chatty？“Isaid，joiningthepartyofthesceptics。
“Thepoordevilwasintrouble，“saidClayton，bowedoverhiscigar-endandwiththeveryfaintestnoteofreproof。
“Sobbing？“someoneasked。
Claytonheavedarealisticsighatthememory。“GoodLord！“hesaid；
“yes。“Andthen，“Poorfellow！yes。“
“Wheredidyoustrikeit？“askedEvans，inhisbestAmericanaccent。
“Ineverrealised，“saidClayton，ignoringhim，“thepoorsortofthingaghostmightbe，“andhehungusupagainforatime，whilehesoughtformatchesinhispocketandlitandwarmedtohiscigar。
“Itookanadvantage，“hereflectedatlast。
Wewerenoneofusinahurry。“Acharacter，“hesaid，“remainsjustthesamecharacterforallthatit’sbeendisembodied。That’sathingwetoooftenforget。Peoplewithacertainstrengthorfixityofpurposemayhaveghostsofacertainstrengthandfixityofpurpose——mosthauntingghosts，youknow，mustbeasone-idea’dasmonomaniacsandasobstinateasmulestocomebackagainandagain。
Thispoorcreaturewasn’t。“Hesuddenlylookedupratherqueerly，andhiseyewentroundtheroom。“Isayit，“hesaid，“inallkindliness，butthatistheplaintruthofthecase。Evenatthefirstglancehestruckmeasweak。“
Hepunctuatedwiththehelpofhiscigar。
“Icameuponhim，youknow，inthelongpassage。HisbackwastowardsmeandIsawhimfirst。RightoffIknewhimforaghost。Hewastransparentandwhitish；cleanthroughhischestIcouldseetheglimmerofthelittlewindowattheend。Andnotonlyhisphysiquebuthisattitudestruckmeasbeingweak。Helooked，youknow，asthoughhedidn’tknowintheslightestwhateverhemeanttodo。Onehandwasonthepanellingandtheotherflutteredtohismouth。Like——SO！“
“Whatsortofphysique？“saidSanderson。
“Lean。Youknowthatsortofyoungman’sneckthathastwogreatflutingsdowntheback，hereandhere——so！Andalittle，meanishheadwithscrubbyhair——Andratherbadears。Shouldersbad，narrowerthanthehips；turn-downcollar，ready-madeshortjacket，trousersbaggyandalittlefrayedattheheels。That’showhetookme。
Icameveryquietlyupthestaircase。Ididnotcarryalight，youknow——thecandlesareonthelandingtableandthereisthatlamp——
andIwasinmylistslippers，andIsawhimasIcameup。Istoppeddeadatthat——takinghimin。Iwasn’tabitafraid。Ithinkthatinmostoftheseaffairsoneisnevernearlysoafraidorexcitedasoneimaginesonewouldbe。Iwassurprisedandinterested。
Ithought，’GoodLord！Here’saghostatlast！AndIhaven’tbelievedforamomentinghostsduringthelastfive-and-twentyyears。’“
“Um，“saidWish。
“IsupposeIwasn’tonthelandingamomentbeforehefoundoutI
wasthere。Heturnedonmesharply，andIsawthefaceofanimmatureyoungman，aweaknose，ascrubbylittlemoustache，afeeblechin。
Soforaninstantwestood——helookingoverhisshoulderatmeandregardedoneanother。Thenheseemedtorememberhishighcalling。
Heturnedround，drewhimselfup，projectedhisface，raisedhisarms，spreadhishandsinapprovedghostfashion——cametowardsme。
Ashedidsohislittlejawdropped，andheemittedafaint，drawn-out’Boo。’No，itwasn’t——notabitdreadful。I’ddined。I’dhadabottleofchampagne，andbeingallalone，perhapstwoorthree——perhapsevenfourorfive——whiskies，soIwasassolidasrocksandnomorefrightenedthanifI’dbeenassailedbyafrog。’Boo！’Isaid。
’Nonsense。Youdon’tbelongtoTHISplace。Whatareyoudoinghere？’
“Icouldseehimwince。’Boo-oo，’hesaid。
“’Boo——behanged！Areyouamember？’Isaid；andjusttoshowIdidn’tcareapinforhimIsteppedthroughacornerofhimandmadetolightmycandle。’Areyouamember？’Irepeated，lookingathimsideways。
“Hemovedalittlesoastostandclearofme，andhisbearingbecamecrestfallen。’No，’hesaid，inanswertothepersistentinterrogationofmyeye；’I’mnotamember——I’maghost。’
“’Well，thatdoesn’tgiveyoutherunoftheMermaidClub。Isthereanyoneyouwanttosee，oranythingofthatsort？’anddoingitassteadilyaspossibleforfearthatheshouldmistakethecarelessnessofwhiskyforthedistractionoffear，Igotmycandlealight。