ut off for
another generation or two. There is no hurry."

I felt a good deal relieved. He was clearly a being of extraordinary
powers, and might, for anything I knew, have made _me_ run away with Lady
Perilous. And then, when the pangs of remorse began to tell on her
ladyship, never a very lively woman at the best of times--However, the
spectre seemed to have thought better of it.

"Don't you think it is rather hard on a family," I asked, "to have a
family genius, and prophecies, and a curse, and--"

"And everything handsome about them," he interrupted me by exclaiming;
"and you call yourself a Mackenzie of Megasky! What has become of family
pride? Why, you yourselves have Gruagach of the Red Hand in the hall,
and he, I can tell you, is a very different sort of spectre from _me_.
Pre-Christian, you know--one of the oldest ghosts in Ross-shire. But as
to 'hard on a family,' why, noblesse oblige."

"Considering that you are the family genius, you don't seem to have
brought them much luck," I put in, for the house of Perilous is neither
rich in gold nor very distinguished in history.

"Yes, but just think what they would have been without a family genius,
if they are what they are with one! Besides, the prophecies are really
responsible," he added, with the air of one who says, "I have a
partner--Mr. Jorkins."

"Do you mind telling me one thing?" I asked eagerly. "What is the
mystery of the Secret Chamber--I mean the room whither the heir is taken
when he comes of age, and he never smiles again, nor touches a card
except at baccarat?"

"Never smiles _again_!" said the spectre. "Doesn't he? Are you quite
certain that he ever smiled _before_?"

This was a new way of looking at the question, and rather disconcerted
me.

"I did not know the Master of Perilous before he came of age," said I;
"but I have been here for a week, and watched him and Lord Perilous, and
I never observed a smile wander over their lips. And yet little
Tompkins" (he was the chief social buffoon of the hour) "has been in
great force, and I may say that I myself have occasionally provoked a
grin from the good-natured."

"That's just it," said the spectre. "The Perilouses have no sense of
humour--never had. I am entirely destitute of it myself. Even in
Scotland, even _here_, this family failing has been remarked--been the
subject, I may say, of unfavourable comment. The Perilous of the period
lost his head because he did not see