“Don’t play the fool,” said Barnes crossly.

“Ghostly servants are all asleep,” said Meagle gravely, “but I’ll wake them up before I’ve done with them.  It’s scandalous keeping us out here in the dark.”

He plied the knocker again, and the noise volleyed in the emptiness beyond.  Then with a sudden exclamation he put out his hands and stumbled forward.

“Why, it was open all the time,” he said, with an odd catch in his voice.  “Come on.”

“I don’t believe it was open,” said Lester, hanging back.  “Somebody is playing us a trick.”

“Nonsense,” said Meagle sharply.  “Give me a candle.  Thanks.  Who’s got a match?”

Barnes produced a box and struck one, and Meagle, shielding the candle with his hand, led the way forward to the foot of the stairs.  “Shut the door, somebody,” he said, “there’s too much draught.”

“It is shut,” said White, glancing behind him.

Meagle fingered his chin.  “Who shut it?” he inquired, looking from one to the other.  “Who came in last?”

“I did,” said Lester, “but I don’t remember shutting it—­perhaps I did, though.”

Meagle, about to speak, thought better of it, and, still carefully guarding the flame, began to explore the house, with the others close behind.  Shadows danced on the walls and lurked in the corners as they proceeded.  At the end of the passage they found a second staircase, and ascending it slowly gained the first floor.

“Careful!” said Meagle, as they gained the landing.

He held the candle forward and showed where the balusters had broken away.  Then he peered curiously into the void beneath.

“This is where the tramp hanged himself, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully.

“You’ve got an unwholesome mind,” said White, as they walked on.  “This place is qutie creepy enough without your remembering that.  Now let’s find a comfortable room and have a little nip of whiskey apiece and a pipe.  How will this do?”

He opened a door at the end of the passage and revealed a small square room.  Meagle led the way with the candle, and, first melting a drop or two of tallow, stuck it on the mantelpiece.  The others seated themselves on the floor and watched pleasantly as White drew from his pocket a small bottle of whiskey and a tin cup.

“H’m!  I’ve forgotten the water,” he exclaimed.  “I’ll soon get some,” said Meagle.

He tugged violently at the bell-handle, and the rusty jangling of a bell sounded from a distant kitchen.  He rang again.

“Don’t play the fool,” said Barnes roughly.

Meagle laughed.  “I only wanted to convince you,” he said kindly.  “There ought to be, at any rate, one ghost in the servants’ hall.”

Barnes held up his hand for silence.

“Yes?” said Meagle with a grin at the other two.  “Is anybody coming?”

“Suppose we drop this game and go back,” said Barnes suddenly.  “I don’t believe in spirits, but nerves are outside anybody’s command.  You may laugh as you like, but it really seemed to me that I heard a door open below and steps on the stairs.”