_Enter_ JOHN, _frightened_, L. H.

_John._ Oh, Lord! I’ve seen it again; there can’t be no sort of mistake this time—a wild-looking, ghost-like thing, with heavy hair, rushed by me at the end of the corridor. Ugh! what’s that?—my heart beats like the fastest sort of a clock. There’s something mysterious in the house—I knew there was, in spite of Grace’s denial. Ugh! I can’t look round often enough to be sure there’s nobody behind me; glaring with glassy eyes;—there it is again! Oh, Lord! coming right through at me! Mercy! mercy! your ghostship!

GRACE _rushes on_ L. H., _and shakes him, she is frightened, but with a different expression_.

_Grace._ Up, fool!

_John._ Is it you! phew! it’s like a reprieve on the very gallows.

_Grace._ What have you seen?

_John._ A ghost! the ghost!

_Grace._ Nonsense; what way did she, I mean did it go?

_John._ Whatever it was, she or it, flew right up the grand staircase like a puff of tobacco smoke. Mercy on us, Grace, what can it be?

_Grace._ Away, and be silent.

_John._ Wasn’t it a ghost, then, tell me that.

_Grace._ Yes; and a mischievous one; see, it’s coming back, run!

_John._ Oh, lord!

[_Bolts off._

_Grace._ Mischief! mischief! where will it end!

[_Exit_ R. H.