BOOK II.
THE SECOND PHANTOM.
One! The stroke of the far-off bell had hardly died before the front door closed with a reverberating clang.

Steps were heard along the passage; the library door swung open of itself, and the Knocker--yes, the Knocker--slowly strode into the room.

The Haunted Man rubbed his eyes,--no! there could be no mistake about it,--it was the Knocker's face, mounted on a misty, almost imperceptible body.

The brazen rod was transferred from its mouth to its right hand, where it was held like a ghostly truncheon.
"It's a cold evening," said the Haunted Man.
"It is," said the Goblin, in a hard, metallic voice.
"It must be pretty cold out there," said the Haunted Man, with vague politeness.

"Do you ever--will you--take some hot water and brandy ?" "No," said the Goblin.
"Perhaps you'd like it cold, by way of change ?" continued the Haunted Man, correcting himself, as he remembered the peculiar temperature with which the Goblin was probably familiar.
"Time flies," said the Goblin coldly.