when looking round, I saw the figure of an Englishman standing close by my bedside, a fine-looking man with a large, fair moustache and dressed in a grey suit. I was so surprised that I could not speak, and we remained looking at each other for about a minute. Then he bent over me and whispered: 'Don't be afraid', and with that there was the sound of a shot, and everything was in darkness".

"My dear girl, you must have fallen asleep over your book and been dreaming", I said.

"No, I was wide awake", she insisted. "You were asleep, but I was awake all the time. But you heard the shot, did you not?"

"Yes", I replied, "that is what woke me --- someone must have fired a shot outside."

"But why should anyone be shooting in our garden at nearly midnight?" my wife objected.

It certainly seemed strange, but it was the only explanation that suggested itself; so we had to agree to differ, she being convinced that she had seen a ghost, and that the shot had been inside the room, and I being equally convinced that she had been dreaming, and that the shot had been fired outside the house.

The next morning the owner of the bungalow, an old widow lady, Mrs La Chaire, called