The Man in the Library

We decided to call the presence Arthur, though we had no proof. Strange things occurred in our old house. The library door would swing open without a breeze. The scent of old books and pipe tobacco would drift through empty rooms. Sometimes we would glimpse a figure moving through the hallway.

One afternoon, I saw clearly a man in a dark vest walk into the library and vanish. Soon after, the rich smell of tobacco filled the air. Arthur had been a scholar who lived with the family who owned this house long ago. He had passed away in his study.

When my aunt visited and we described these events, she nodded slowly and said, ‘That sounds like Arthur.’ She spoke with such certainty, as if she had expected him.

Arthur was a calm spirit. He would often appear near the bookshelves, simply watching us read or talk. He never felt dangerous, so we grew accustomed to his visits. When we felt his presence, we would greet him quietly. He would linger for a moment before fading away.

One evening, my sister and I were looking for a book in the library when the lamp on the desk began to dim and brighten on its own.