r--but it took me unawares. I'd never have gone to the
bar by myself if I'd known it was there, and I don't believe you would,
either, sir.

MALCOLM. Nonsense, I'll go and fetch him in. (_Crosses to L._)

GEORGE (_clutching him by the sleeve_). You don't know what it's like,
sir. It ain't fit to look at by yourself, it ain't indeed. It's got the
awfullest deathlike face, and short cropped red hair--it's--

(_Smothered cry is heard._)

What's that? (_Backs to C and leans on chair._)

(_ALL start, and a quick pattering of footsteps is heard rapidly
approaching the room. The door flies open and HIRST flings himself
gasping and shivering into MALCOLM'S arms. The door remains open. He has
only his trousers and shirt on, his face very white with fear and his
own hair all standing on end. LEEK lights the gas, then goes to R. of
HIRST._)

OMNES. What's the matter?

MALCOLM. Why, it's Hirst.

(_Shakes him roughly by the shoulder._)

What's up?

HIRST. I've seen--oh, Lord! I'll never play the fool again. (_Goes C._)

OTHERS. Seen what?

HIRST. Him--it--the ghost--anything.

MALCOLM (_uneasily_). Rot!

HIRST. I was coming down the stairs to get something I'd forgotten, when
I felt a tap--(_He breaks off suddenly gazing through open door._) I
thought I saw it again--Look--at the foot of the stairs, can't you see
anything? (_Shaking LEEK._)

LEEK (_crosses to door peering down passage_). No, there's nothing
there. (_Stays up L._)

(_HIRST gives a sigh of relief._)

MALCOLM (_L. C._). Go on--you felt a tap----

HIRST (_C._). I turned and saw it--a little wicked head with short red
hair--and a white dead face--horrible.

(_Clock chimes three-quarters._)

(_They assist him into chair L. of table R._)

GEORGE (_up C._). That's what I saw in the bar--'orrid--it was devilish.
(_Coming C._)

(_MALCOLM crosses to L. HIRST shudders._)

MALCOLM. Well, it's a most unaccountable thing. It's the last time I
come to this house. (_Goes to R. of LEEK._)

GEORGE. I leave to-morrow. I wouldn't go down to that bar alone--no, not
for fifty pounds. (_Goes up R. to arm-chair._)

SOMERS (_crosses to door R. then returns to R. C._). It's talking about
the thing that's caused it, I expect. We've had it in our minds, and
we've been practically forming a spiritualistic circle without knowing
it. (_Goes to back of table R._)

BELDON (_crosses to R. C._). Hang the old gentleman. Upon my soul I'm
half afraid to go to bed.

M