Several years had elapsed since I met the butler of Lausdree Castle in the Highland Inn. I had just come up from the south of England for some golf and fresh air, and was looking over my letters one morning at breakfast when I opened the following missive:—

Lausdree Castle,
......

Sir,—Yours to command. Sir, I have not forgot our pleasant talk on that snowy night up in the far north, when you were pleased to be interested in my experiences of Lausdree. Could you very kindly meet me any day and time you choose to fix at Leuchars? And oblige,

Your obedient servant,

Jeremiah Anklebone.

P.S.—I have something to divulge to you connected with St Andrews that may absorb your mind.

Accordingly, I fixed up arrangements and met Mr Anklebone at Leuchars, where we went to the nearest hostelry and ordered the best lunch they had there. Jeremiah looked thinner, older, and whiter than when I last saw him, doubtless owing to his frequent communing with spirits.

“How is Lausdree getting on?” I meekly inquired, “and what of the ghosts?”

“It is getting on fine, sir. I have had a number of new experiences since I had the pleasure of seeing you last. You must understand, sir, that my family for generations have been favoured with occult powers. My father was a great seer, and my great-grandfather, Mr Concrikketty Anklebone, of the Isle[50] of Skye, was a wonderful visionary.”

Now, Anklebone was an interesting old fellow, but he had a tiresome habit of wandering away from his theme, and, as it were, getting off the main road into a labyrinth of bye-ways, and one had, metaphorically, to push him out of these side lanes and place him on his feet again in the main road.

“Before I come to St Andrews Castle,” he said, “I must tell you about a queer episode of an astral body at Lausdree, a disentangled personality, as it were.”

“Push along,” I said, “and tell me.”

“Well, one afternoon after luncheon the master and I were in the dining hall, when we saw a gentleman crossing the lawn towards the castle. He was a tall man in a riding dress, with curly hair and a large flowing moustache. He came up to the window and looked in earnestly at us, and then walked along the gravel-walk round to the castle door. ‘Hullo!’ said the master, ‘that is my old friend, Jack Herbert, to whom I have let Lausdree for this summer. What on earth can bring him here? I’ll go to the door myself and let him in. He never said he was coming.’

“In a minute or two the master came back looking bewildered. ‘Anklebone,’ he said, ‘that’s a very queer thing; there is nobody there!’ ‘Perhaps,’ I suggested, ‘the gentleman has gone round to the stables’; so we both hurried off to look, but not a sign of anyone could be seen, and we stared blankly at each other. We could not make it out. Two days after, the master got a letter from Mr Jack Herbert telling him he had had a bad fall off his horse, had injured his spine, and was confined to bed.

“Mr Herbert went on to say that two days before, while he was asleep, he dreamt vividly that he was at Lausdree; that he crossed the lawn to the window of the dining hall, and, looking in, saw my master and the butler (that’s me) in the room. He was going round to the front door when he awoke. Now that was his astral body that Master and I saw. He loved Lausdree, and during sleep he came and paid us that visit. Queer, isn’t it? Ten days after, he died. He wanted to see the old castle before he died, and his force of will power brought his[51] double self, or astral body, to visit us. It is not so uncommon as people think.

“Numbers of people are seen in two places at once far apart. Look at Archbishop Sharpe of St Andrews. He was in Edinburgh, at Holyrood I think, and sent his servant over post haste to St Andrews to bring back some papers he had forgotten there. When his trusty servant went up to his study in the Novum Hospitium to get the papers from the desk, lo! there was the Archbishop sitting in his usual chair and scowling at him. He told the Archbishop this when he returned with the papers to Edinburgh, but his Grace sternly bade him be silent and mention the matter to no one on pain of death.

“Now, sir, it seems that my master is able to see astral bodies, for he saw Mr Jack Herbert, but I doubt if he could see a real spirit. Perhaps, sir,” suggested Anklebone, politely, “you might be able to see astral bodies?”

“Thank you very much indeed,” I replied, “but I’m ? if I want to see anything of the sort; but I have heard a tale of an eminent man in London who took a nap in his armchair every afternoon, and while asleep appeared to his friends in different parts of the country, but I doubt the fact very much.”

“Ah!” said the butler, very solemnly, “only about one in a thousand has the power of visualising real spirits. Many ordinary persons have long sight, and some have short sight, but most people are short-sighted when ghosts are visible. The ghosts are really there all the time. Some people cannot see them, but can feel their presence or touch only. Most animals can see spirits; sometimes they are killed with terror when they see the spirits.”

I pulled the bell rope and ordered some spirits for the butler. “I don’t think that will kill you with terror,” I said when it arrived.

He ............