When the ghost reached his secret chamber in the castle, he leaned up against a moonbeam to catch his breath.
"Never before in three hundred years have I ever been so insulted!" he gasped.
He thought back to when he had grinned ghoulishly in Lady Bracknell's mirror and had turned her hair as white as ash.
He smiled as he remembered the three hysterical housemaids who had found him bowling in the graveyard behind the castle, using his head for a ball.
For a while he recalled, like a famous actor, all his great performances of the past.
Thinking about the costumes he had worn and the screams and moans he had uttered cheered him a little.
He took off his chains and passed the night watching the dim shadows cast by the moonlight creep across the stone floor.
When the Otis family met at breakfast, they discussed the ghost at some length.
"I think it was quite rude of the ghost not to use the lubricator I offered," said Mr. Otis.
"Still," said Virginia, "I don't think it was very polite to throw pillows at him."
At this, the twins looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"Stop that, you two, and keep your slingshots off the dining table," said Mrs. Otis.
"I think we must simply take his chains from him so he doesn't bother us again," suggested Washington.
For the rest of the week, however, the only ghostly occurrence was the bloodstain in the library.
Washington cleaned it up every morning, and every night Mr. Otis locked the library doors, but in the morning it always reappeared.
Strangely enough, it kept changing colors.
It started out as blood red, changed to royal purple, and then became flame orange for a few days.
The twins thought this was great fun.
Washington and Mr. Otis even started laying bets on the stain's color before bed.
Virginia was the only one who seemed upset, however, and the morning they all came down to find the stain a bright emerald green, she nearly cried.
On Sunday night, shortly after everyone had gone to bed, there was a loud crash in the hall.
"What on earth is going on?" said Mr. Otis, stepping out into the hallway with a candle.
Virginia opened her door and saw the twins rush past carrying their slingshots.
When she caught up, the rest of the family was gathered at the top of the stairs.
Looking down, she saw the suit of armor that had stood at the bottom of the stairway scattered over the floor.
And sitting in the tall wooden chair against the wall was the Canterville ghost rubbing his knee.
The twins immediately loaded their slingshots and accurately fired two small stones.
In a rage, the ghost flew up the stairs at the family, spread his skeleton arms wide, and let out his loudest, most demonic groan.
"Oh my," said Mrs. Otis, "he doesn't sound well at all.
I think I'll go fetch him some cough syrup from the kitchen."
But before she could start down the stairs, the ghost blew out Mr. Otis' candle and vanished in the dark.
Just as the candle went out, Virginia thought she saw a sad expression pass over the ghost's face.
As the ghost snuck through the dark corridors, he wiped a tear from his eye.
He had planned such a terrifying surprise!
He had wanted to parade through their bedrooms in the ancient suit of armor while brandishing a gleaming sword─but it had all come to nothing.
He had been so worried about a sneak attack from behind that he hadn't watched what he was doing.
He had knocked over the armor with his knee, and it had all collapsed on top of him.
Now he just wanted to slink off to his room and bandage his wound with cobwebs.
But first, he bravely and quietly went to the library and made sure the stain was ready for morning.
Afterward he sat among the ashes in the fireplace─one of his favorite places in the castle─and made a solemn vow.
"I will have my vengeance on this ill-mannered, awful family," he promised.
The next night a violent storm thrashed the castle windows with rain, and the wind howled about the turrets like a lost soul.
It was just the kind of weather the ghost loved.
"It is time to put the fear of the supernatural into these people," he said as he looked through his wardrobe.
He picked out a long winding-sheet the color of gravestone and a thread-worn jacket with bloodstains. He planned his attack.
"I'll start by scaring the twins out of their beds in the form of a green, icy-cold corpse," he thought.
"Then I'll pass through the wall into Washington's room, where I'll moan hideously and stab my chest with a dagger."
For Mr. and Mrs. Otis, he planned to haunt their dreams with visions of hellfire, but he didn't quite know what he would do for Virginia.
She had never insulted him and seemed quite gentle.
"Perhaps I'll just groan as I pass by her door," he thought.
At half past ten, he heard the family go to bed.
For a little while, wild shrieks of laughter came from the twins' room, but eventually the only noise was the storm outside.
Just before he started out, he decided that, for an added touch of horror, he would leave his head behind.
He glided through the walls of the castle like an evil shadow until he stood just outside the twins' room. The door was slightly ajar.
Wishing to make a dramatic entrance, he screamed his favorite sixteenth-century curses and flung open the door.
A heavy jug of water, which had been cunningly balanced on top of the door, fell heavily onto the ghost and soaked him through to the bones.
The twins, sitting up in their beds, were laughing uproariously.
The ghost got up on one knee in the cold, wet puddle.
When he saw the twins reach for their pillows, he let out a cry that sounded more frightened than ghostly and escaped through the floor in a flash.
That night the ghost came down with a cold.
He was just glad that he hadn't brought his head or the shock to his system might have been far worse.
As it was, his nerves were completely shot.
He decided to give up the stain in the library.
Obviously the Otis family had no appreciation for spiritual phenomena and didn't deserve it.
Nonetheless he did have a solemn obligation to appear on the terraced balcony twice a week and to tread the corridors in chains every Sunday at midnight.
It is quite true that his life had been evil, but on the other hand, he was very responsible when it came to his supernatural duties.
And after three centuries, he wasn't going to give up now.
When he had recovered a little from his cold, he snuck back to the hallway outside Mr. and Mrs. Otis' room.
With a heavy sigh, he stooped to pick up the bottle of Rising Sun Lubricator from under the table.
Back in his room, he found that if he applied the oil to his chains and removed his big leather boots, he could haunt the castle hallways as quietly as a church-mouse.
