By Carl Kjellberg

I have seen many ghosts over my lifetime – Aristotle, Spinoza, Shakespeare, Einstein – I have seen them all. It was Einstein who taught me that time was relative and that no one really dies, especially those who have created great works. But I digress. It was as I was reading the great poem Lochinvar when Sir Walter Scott first appeared to me. Yes, I had heard his voice speaking as I read Lady of the lake and Marmion but never had he appeared to me in material form. He was shorter than I imagined and slightly stouter. He leaned upon his cane, his right leg withered as in life, while looking intently in my direction. I glanced down at the book on my lap feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Well,” he said, “what is it you wish to ask?”
“I was wondering,” I replied, “who was Ellen and what did Young Lochinvar say to her?”
Sir Walter frowned and turned from me. There was a long silence.
“According to Wikipedia,” I continued, “Lochinvar was really Sir William Gordon and Ellen was actually someone called Helen.”
Sir Walter spun around and glared at me. “Your modern writers know nothing. Don’t listen to their rot.” Another long silence. It was my turn to look away. When I finally looked back, I saw Sir Walter’s face had softened. He sighed.
“The real Ellen was my wife, Charlotte. All my writings were about her in some way or another. I was 26 years old when I first met Charlotte. I immediately fell madly in love with her.”
“You were a writer?”
“No, I had been trained to be a lawyer, but I hated it. I shared some of my scribblings with Charlotte before we were married. It was she who saw my true passion.”
“So, that’s when you decided to change your career?”
“No, I initially balked at the idea. It was Charlotte who persisted. She said we could not marry me unless I were truly happy.”
“And her family?”
Sir Walter laughed. “No, they were not happy at all about the idea of their daughter marrying a scribbler. They refused.”
“But?”
“I came to Charlotte and told her she was right. We married on Christmas eve.”
“And did her family change their mind?”
“Well, let’s just say that having a stubborn wife and literary success helped things along.”
As I watched, Sir Walter Scott slowly began to fade from view and as he did, I saw the faint outline of a beautiful young woman standing behind him. She reached up and gently touched his shoulder. Then, both were gone.