He had hoped that even modern Americans would be thrilled by the sight of a Spectre In Armour, if for no more sensible reason, at least out of respect for their national poet Longfellow; over whose graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a weary hour when the Cantervilles were up in town.

Besides, it was his own suit. He had worn it with great success at the Kenilworth tournament, and had been highly complimented on it by no less a person than the Virgin Queen herself.

Yet when he had put it on, he had been completely overpowered by the weight of the huge breastplate and steel helmet, and had fallen heavily on the stone pavement, barking both his knees severely, and bruising the knuckles of his right hand.

For some days after this he was extremely ill, and hardly stirred out of his room at all, except to keep the blood-stain in proper repair.

However, by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and resolved to make a third attempt to frighten the United States Ambassador and his family.

He selected Friday, the 17th of August, for his appearance, and spent most of that day in looking over his wardrobe, ultimately deciding in favour of a large hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet, frilled at the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger.