The clock showed a quarter past twelve. The time had come. The ghost laughed softly to himself, and went around the corner. Then, with a scream of terror, he jumped back, and hid his face (which had gone completely white) in his long, bony hands.

Right in front of him was a horrible ghost, as still as a statue, and monstrous as a madman's dream! Its head was bald and burnished; its face round, and fat, and white; and hideous laughter seemed to have given its features an eternal grin.

From the eyes shone scarlet light, the mouth was a wide firey hole, and a garment, which was just like his own garment, was wrapped around the huge figure. On its chest was a card with strange writing in antique letters.

The ghost thought that this told people of wild sins which the other ghost had done, some awful description of a crime. In its right hand, the other ghost held a dagger of shining steel.

The ghost had never seen a ghost before, so naturally he was very frightened. He gave a second, hasty glance at the awful sight, and then he fled back to his room, falling over his own shroud as he ran down the corridor, and finally dropping his dagger into Mr Otis' boots, where the butler found it in the morning.

When he reached his own room, the ghost jumped into bed, and hid his face under the bedclothes.