It was almost midnight. The ghost, as usual, felt lonely.
A car stopped outside the gate. Later, someone opened the door. It was the caretaker and another man carrying a suitcase. The ghost remembered the man visiting the house once for some repair.
"I've warned you about the ghost, Robin."
"I told you, I don't believe in ghosts. It's a matter of just one night. I've to catch a train early in the morning, and the station is nearby. Please tell me more about the ghost."
The ghost listened, sitting on a rocking chair nearby. It had half a mind to rock the chair violently to see if the man had no fear of ghosts. He chuckled, remembering the few occasions when other brave hearts had placed bets that they could spend the whole night alone in the house. All of them had made a hasty exit even before the first howl from him had died down.
"The owner lived here with his servant till about three months ago. One morning, the casket containing the family jewels was found missing. The landlord and the servant had overslept that night and were groggy in the morning. The servant, who denied the charge of theft, disappeared a couple of days later. The police are still investigating. The landlord now lives with his son in another city after appointing me as the caretaker. I must go now. I'll be in the outhouse."
Robin closed the door, took the suitcase to the bedroom and placed it on the bed. He came out after a while, descended the steps leading to the cellar like one familiar with its layout, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped inside. Kneeling, he removed a wooden plank with the tools taken out of the suitcase. After a while, he brought out a small box and opened it. It was full of jewels. Robin replaced the plank and came out, closing the door behind him.
Now the ghost knew who had drugged him and his master and stolen the casket. He had hidden the box in the cellar and left it there till the heat was off. He remembered the pain he had suffered during the interrogation by the landlord's men before killing him.
When Robin reached the bedroom, he was surprised to find it in darkness. He could have sworn he had left the light on. He was reaching for the switch when he felt someone tapping his shoulder gently from behind. It seemed an eternity before he gathered the courage to turn around. And there stood the ghost, flapping his bony hands in the air. A shriek died down abruptly in Robin's throat.
It was the continuous blaring of the car's horn that brought the caretaker and a policeman to the mansion.
They found an unconscious Robin on the floor, clutching the casket of jewels.
A car stopped outside the gate. Later, someone opened the door. It was the caretaker and another man carrying a suitcase. The ghost remembered the man visiting the house once for some repair.
"I've warned you about the ghost, Robin."
"I told you, I don't believe in ghosts. It's a matter of just one night. I've to catch a train early in the morning, and the station is nearby. Please tell me more about the ghost."
The ghost listened, sitting on a rocking chair nearby. It had half a mind to rock the chair violently to see if the man had no fear of ghosts. He chuckled, remembering the few occasions when other brave hearts had placed bets that they could spend the whole night alone in the house. All of them had made a hasty exit even before the first howl from him had died down.
"The owner lived here with his servant till about three months ago. One morning, the casket containing the family jewels was found missing. The landlord and the servant had overslept that night and were groggy in the morning. The servant, who denied the charge of theft, disappeared a couple of days later. The police are still investigating. The landlord now lives with his son in another city after appointing me as the caretaker. I must go now. I'll be in the outhouse."
Robin closed the door, took the suitcase to the bedroom and placed it on the bed. He came out after a while, descended the steps leading to the cellar like one familiar with its layout, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped inside. Kneeling, he removed a wooden plank with the tools taken out of the suitcase. After a while, he brought out a small box and opened it. It was full of jewels. Robin replaced the plank and came out, closing the door behind him.
Now the ghost knew who had drugged him and his master and stolen the casket. He had hidden the box in the cellar and left it there till the heat was off. He remembered the pain he had suffered during the interrogation by the landlord's men before killing him.
When Robin reached the bedroom, he was surprised to find it in darkness. He could have sworn he had left the light on. He was reaching for the switch when he felt someone tapping his shoulder gently from behind. It seemed an eternity before he gathered the courage to turn around. And there stood the ghost, flapping his bony hands in the air. A shriek died down abruptly in Robin's throat.
It was the continuous blaring of the car's horn that brought the caretaker and a policeman to the mansion.
They found an unconscious Robin on the floor, clutching the casket of jewels.
