for several nights. It belonged to a member who was believed to be in a dying state, and inquiries were naturally made after their associate. He lived in the adjoining house. A particular friend went himself to inquire for him, and reported to the club that he could not possibly survive the night. This dismal tidings threw a damp on the company. They took off their glasses without turning lively; they smoked, and still they were gloomy: all efforts to turn the conversation agreeably were ineffectual.
At about midnight, the time when the club was usually most cheerful, a silence prevailed in the room, the door gently opened, and the form, in white, of the dying man, walked into the room, and took a seat in the accustomed chair. There it remained in silence, and in silence was gazed at. His appearance continued a sufficient time in the chair to convince all present of the reality of the vision. But they were in a state of awful astonishment. At length the apparition arose and stalked towards the door, opened it, as if living—went out, and closed the door afterwards.
After a long pause, a member at last had the resolution to say, "If only one of us had seen this, he would not have been believed, but it is impossible that so many persons can be deceived."
The company by degrees recovered their speech; and the whole conversation, as may be imagined, was respecting the object of their alarm. They broke up in a body and went home.
