sons for delay, and Henry's wife had undoubtedly gone to bed to sleep quietly till he came. She was a very sensible woman.
So we all got under way for the Mole. Caldwell and our new friends insisted on going down to see us safely off for the ship. Our boat lay bumping gently every now and then against the lower stair of the landing. There was one man in her, fast asleep. Page woke him up, and started him off after the rest of the crew. We all sat down on the long bench that runs along inside the railing on the cap-sill of the pier, and waited for the crew to come.
Dos Reales had preferred camping out that night to retiring to his usual lodging-house, wherever that might be. So we judged, at least, for after the sound of several prolonged yawns, and a variety of scratchings and slippings of claws on the wooden floor of the wharf, had come to us from a little distance, he made his appearance, walking sleepily towards us, through the morning twilight. He rubbed a "good morning" against each one of us, and then sat down and opened his mouth for money for his breakfast.
" You're too early, old fellow," said I; "there are no shops open yet. Lie down, sir!"
After waiting a while, and looking wonderingly at the absence of his usual remittances, he appeared to think so too, and curled himself up at my feet to resume his interrupted slumbers.
The coming daylight came nearer. The lanterns on the Mole began to grow dim, and the chilly land breeze from the mountains to lessen in strength.
There was a steady footstep coming down the pier from the entrance gate.
"There comes the coxswain," said Page. "The crew are close behind him. Let's get into the boat."
We were shaking hands with our shore friends, and saying "good bye," when Caldwell exclaimed: "McLerie!
87 Look there!" We turned and looked up the Mole.
The steady footsteps had ceased, but a figure stood about a dozen yards from us, shadowy and vague in the dim light, wearing the features and dress of the dead Don Ricardo—stood in his old familiar attitude, looking far out seaward, unconscious, apparently, of us or of anything else of earth.
McLerie shrank back.
"What do you think xow?" whispered Page.
McLerie braced himself as if against some physica! shock, waited a moment, and then exclaiming, "Man or ghost, I'll make it speak!" he started with a firm step towards the figure.
But Dos Reales was too quick for him. With a bark of joyful greeting he sprang up and ran towards the apparition, satisfied that he had at last found some one who would give him what he wanted. After his usual manner, he sat down close to the figure, and opened his mouth for the expected coins.
The apparition burst into a loud laugh.
It was a twin-brother of Don Ricardo's. The affair of the night before had been impromptu on his part. He had seen our heads above the upper step of the balcony stairs, suspected what we thought, and resolved to carry out the delusion by doing exactly what McLerie surmised he had done—climbing rapidly out on the roof through the open skylight, and dislodging, or rather loosening, the nail that sustained the picture, as it gave him a momentary stand-point in his ascent.. This morning he had merely walked out for fresh air. At the gate of the Mole he had heard our voices, and supposed them to be those of boatmen. Coming nearer, he had recognized us, and resolved to maintain the illusion of the balcony of the night before; but Dos Reales interfered.
The affair didn't lessen either Page's belief or mine in ghosts, however.
