though it does not fall within the same category with the main
story that heads this chapter. The only reason why I do so is that the
facts tally in one respect, though in one respect only, and that is that
the person who knew would tell nothing.

This was a friend of mine who was a widower. We were in the same office
together and he occupied a chair and a table next but one to mine. This
gentleman was in our office for only six months after narrating the
story. If he had stayed longer we might have got out his secret, but
unfortunately he went away; he has gone so far from us that probably we
shall not meet again for the next 10 years.

It was in connection with the "Smith's dead wife's photograph"
controversy that one day one of my fellow clerks told me that a visit
from a dead wife was nothing very wonderful, as our friend Haralal could
testify.

I always took of a lot of interest in ghosts and their stories. So I was
generally at Haralal's desk cross-examining him about this affair; at
first the gentleman was very uncommunicative but when he saw I would
give him no rest he made a statement which I have every reason to
believe is true. This is more or less what he says.

"It was about ten years ago that I joined this office. I have been a
widower ever since I left college--in fact I married the daughter of a
neighbour when I was at college and she died about 3 years afterwards,
when I was just thinking of beginning life in right earnest. She has
been dead these 10 years and I shall never marry again, (a young widower
in good circumstances, in Bengal, is as rare as a blue rose).

"I have a suite of bachelor rooms in Calcutta, but I go to my suburban
home on every Saturday afternoon and stay there till Monday morning,
that is, I pass my Saturday night and the whole of Sunday in my village
home every week.

"On this particular occasion nearly eight years ago, that is, about a
year and a half after the death of my young wife I went home by an
evening train. There is any number of trains in the evening and there is
no certainty by which train I go, so if I am late, generally everybody
goes to bed with the exception of my mother.

"On this particular night I reached home rather late. It was the month
of September and there had been a heavy shower in the town and all
tram-car services had been suspended.

"When I reached the Railway Station I found that the trains were not
running to time either. I was given to un