as at that time to ask him for the gift of his
niece, who was the head of his household, and, according to his own
frequent statement, the main prop of his declining years. Had
Madeline acquiesced in my general views on the subject, I might have
felt encouraged to open the matter to Mr. Hinckman; but, as I said
before, I had never asked her whether or not she would be mine. I
thought of these things at all hours of the day and night,
particularly the latter.

I was lying awake one night, in the great bed in my spacious
chamber, when, by the dim light of the new moon, which partially
filled the room, I saw John Hinckman standing by a large chair near
the door. I was very much surprised at this, for two reasons. In the
first place, my host had never before come into my room; and, in the
second place, he had gone from home that morning, and had not
expected to return for several days. It was for this reason that I
had been able that evening to sit much later than usual with
Madeline on the moon-lit porch. The figure was certainly that of
John Hinckman in his ordinary dress, but there was a vagueness and
indistinctness about it which presently assured me that it was a
ghost. Had the good old man been murdered? and had his spirit come
to tell me of the deed, and to confide to me the protection of his
dear--? My heart fluttered at what I was about to think, but at this
instant the figure spoke.

"Do you know," he said, with a countenance that indicated anxiety,
"if Mr. Hinckman will return to-night?"

I thought it well to maintain a calm exterior, and I answered:

"We do not expect him."

"I am glad of that," said he, sinking into the chair by which he
stood. "During the two years and a half that I have inhabited this
house, that man has never before been away for a single night. You
can't imagine the relief it gives me."

And as he spoke he stretched out his legs and leaned back in the
chair. His form became less vague, and the colors of his garments
more distinct and evident, while an expression of gratified relief
succeeded to the anxiety of his countenance.

"Two years and a half!" I exclaimed. "I don't understand you."

"It is fully that length of time," said the ghost, "since I first
came here. Mine is not an ordinary case. But before I say anything
more about it, let me ask you again if you are sure Mr. Hinckman
will not return to-night?"

"I am as sure of it as I can be of anything," I answered. "He left