118 A TRUE GHOST STORY 



reasons for it, and it was none of my business to 

 inquire what they were. I sat in my room for 

 a few minutes looking over some accounts and 

 other papers and then turned in. As usual I was 

 soon asleep. At about the same hour as on the 

 previous night I was again awakened by the 

 whining of the big dog down stairs, and the 

 sound of some one moving about and dropping 

 some heavy object on the floor. "What a careless 

 servant," I thought to myself, and went asleep 

 again. In the morning after an early breakfast 

 we drove over to the Mission and attended ser- 

 vice. This Indian mission was under the direc- 

 tion of Rev. Father Arnaud, a venerable old gen- 

 tleman of seventy, who had passed fifty years of 

 his life in missionary work among the Labrador 

 Indians. Having known me since my childhood 

 his greeting was most cordial. "You must come 

 and dine with me, Alex," he said, and of course 

 I accepted. Immediately after mass, my friend 

 Lausier went to the vestry and had a long pri- 

 vate conversation with the Rev. Father. We had 

 an excellent dinner prepared by an Indian cook. 

 French bean soup, boiled salmon, roast beaver 

 and vegetables, stewed prunes and cheese, claret 

 and coffee. On rising from the table Father 

 Arnaud said to me, "come over to my room, I 

 wish to speak to you." He produced some 

 cigars, and beckoning to me to sit down, said, 



