“Unbelievable!” Mr. Carter grumbled. “I have to come with you three to the haunting, I have to see the ghost, I have to talk to the ghost, I have to direct the ghost--and now I have to direct an entire play on top of all that!”

“Oh, the director complains about directing!” Joseph said. “You don't need to do the whole play, just a scene. It doesn’t even need to involve all of us. We just need you to do a scene in which our ghost interacts with, and thus acknowledges, the presence of other people.”

Suddenly, Hamlet broke from his stock-still silence.

He took a step forward to the group.

“He’s moving! Ah!” Mr. Carter exclaimed. “He’s moving! Why is he moving?”

“Why are you moving, Hamlet?” Joseph asked.

Hamlet took another step forward. His eyes were set on Mr. Carter.

Mr. Carter moved so that Joseph was in front of himself like a shield.

“Do you want Mr. Carter to direct you, is that it?” Joseph asked. “Yes, that’s probably it. You’ve been waiting for him to direct you for so long that you just can’t endure the burden of further waiting. You just won’t have it. And neither should you.” Joseph turned to Mr. Carter. “Give him directions. What part of Hamlet is he doing? Come on, something with two people at least…”

“Um…um…just give me a moment!” Mr. Carter exclaimed. “It’s not so easy to remember things under pressure, even easy things!”

The ghost took another step toward Mr. Carter.

“You better tell him something and quick.” Joseph said. “He’s nearly close enough to touch you, Mr. Carter!”

“Ahhh!” Mr. Carter yelped. “Act Five, the fencing portion!”

Hamlet paused. He transformed into mist and floated away some distance. Then he reformed, and when he did so, his cloak was discarded and a rapier was held in his hand.

He brought the rapier up to his face and gave a flourishing salute.

The three manesologists turned and looked at Mr. Carter.

“The fencing portion? You cannot be serious! You simply cannot be serious!” Martin exclaimed.

“I’m sorry! I panicked!” Mr. Carter exclaimed. “I’m usually so hands-off when it comes to the fencing scenes, I let a man named Shaw handle the choreography of Hamlet and Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet and the rest!”

“So we tell you to direct a scene with us and Hamlet and you pick the one that has the least amount of directing in it, is that it?” Joseph asked.

“Well, there’s some directing to do here…a little.” Mr. Carter said.

Hamlet moved his body so that he faced the group with his shoulder. His feet were perpendicular to each other.

He bent his knees.

“Come on, sir.” he said.

“Wait, that’s the line?” Joseph asked. “The line is “Come on, sir?””

“You need to watch more Shakespeare plays.” Martin said. He reached out, and a portion of the throne room dulled until it was the blue of deep, sunless water. From this discoloration, Martin withdrew a thin rapier to match Hamlet’s own.

“What Operation is that?” Mr. Carter asked.

“It’s not a manesological operation.” Martin explained. “It’s a result of my thaumaturgical training. I can shape ectoplasm by touch. The dogs were not the only things I gained from my time as a student of the invisible arts.”

Martin leveled the rapier at Hamlet. “I can be your Laertes.”

“You can’t fence.” Joseph said. “No way.”

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A quick display of a pronated prime parry, a quick circle to parry six, a slash to parry four, and an agile lunge proved Joseph wrong.

“When the hell did you learn to do all that?” Joseph asked.

“I’ve lived a long and storied life, Joseph Morton.” Martin answered. “It’s not as long and storied as your own, but still very long and very storied. I have developed several mundane skills to complement my metaphysical knowledge.”

Martin crouched, ready to spring into a frenzy of thrusts and lunges. “Do we begin, Mr. Carter? We don’t begin until you say so, right?”

“Uh…yes! Yes, that’s correct.” Mr. Carter said. “Um…action!”

“Come on, sir.” Laertes returned Hamlet’s words and the two sprang at each other in a blur of action.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Joseph said as he watched the fencing match with Matthew and Mr. Carter. “It seems that boy will be a mystery to us forever, Matthew. As soon as we think we know him, he springs another surprise on us.”

“Well, he is, like you say, a magic man.” Matthew said. “And they are known for their secrets.”

“I wonder if he ever dueled anyone?” Joseph asked.

“Hopefully no one that’ll be a client of ours in the future.” Matthew answered. “That would make things very awkward.”

“He’s pretty handy with that rapier, isn’t he? Does your man Mr. Shaw teach your players to fence this well, Mr. Carter?” Joseph asked.

“No.” Mr. Carter said. “I’ve only ever seen Mr. Shaw himself move like this.”

Man and manes continued their bout. Thrusts led to parries led to ripostes. They were locked within the rhythmic pattern of a duel in which both sides knew exactly what they were doing.

“Was the ghost a swordsman in life?” Mr. Carter asked.

“It’s possible.” Matthew answered. “But then again, it’s also possible he’s getting by on supernatural quickness.”

“If so, then further praise to Dr. Glass for keeping up with the superhuman.” Mr. Carter said.

“I wonder if he’s as good with firearms as he is with a blade?” Joseph asked. “We need to find some rifles and go out in Epping Forest and find out.”

“So…how long do they fence?” Matthew asked Mr. Carter.

Mr. Carter didn’t answer. He was transfixed by the action.

“Mr. Carter?” Matthew asked.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry.” Mr. Carter said. “I just got carried away watching the back-and-forth. It’s not something you see everyday. Um...they fence until Hamlet scores a hit.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen until you say so.” Joseph said.

“Perhaps.” Mr. Carter replied. “I should go ahead and say something.”

“I say we let them keep going.” Joseph said. “The boy is clearly enjoying himself.”

“No. He’s getting tired.” Matthew said. “Let’s move this along.”

“Ha!” Joseph laughed. “Okay, Gertrude, our boy is fat and scant of breath. Mr. Carter, continue with the directions.”

“Well…Hamlet now scores a hit!” Mr. Carter announced.

Martin dipped his rapier and allowed Hamlet to strike him. The ectoplasmic sword left a chalk-like mark on his clothes.

“Say, that’s clever!” Martin said. He touched the luminescent steak on his clothing. “It marks you just like a practice rapier!”

“Um, those aren’t your lines.” Mr. Carter said. “Hamlet speaks next.”

“Oh! Sorry about that.” Martin said. “I forgot I was in a play for a second and thought I was back at the fencing academy.”

“Fencing academy?” Joseph asked.

“A long story.” Martin said.

Mr. Carter looked at Hamlet. The ghost said not a word and made not a motion.

“Look at that! He’s actually waiting for directions now!” Mr. Carter said. “You know, I think he’s changing a little. I mean, mentally, he’s changing.”

“Trust to us and our expertise, Mr. Carter.” Joseph said. “Hamlet is not the first ghost we’ve broken out of a phantasmagoria.”

Mr. Carter grinned. “You know what? I think we really are on the right track here! Suddenly our Hamlet’s antic disposition doesn’t seem so…uncontrollable.”

“LIsten up everyone!” Mr. Carter said. “Let’s keep on going. Let’s not lose our momentum. Hamlet has just scored a touch against Laertes. Hamlet, line?”

“One.” Hamlet said.

“Argh!” Martin bared his teeth and groaned.

Joseph chuckled. “What was that? Did you just growl?”

“I’m upset.” Martin explained. “I got the blade envenomed, remember? I’m trying to kill Hamlet under the cover of a fencing accident because I blame him for the deaths of Ophelia and Polonius.”

“No no no!” Mr. Carter snapped his fingers. “Don’t break role! We are here to act, not to talk about acting!”

Hamlet looked at Martin.

“See?” Mr. Carter said. “Even he knows what the problem is! Take your role seriously.” Mr. Carter turned to Joseph. “And as for you, no further comments from the audience!”

Joseph smiled. “No complaints here, Mr. Carter. They go into their roles, you go into yours, and everything will work out.”

“Start at “One.” Hamlet.” Mr. Carter directed.

“One.” Hamlet said.

“No.” Laertes protested.

Hamlet turned to Mr. Carter. “Judgment.”

Mr. Carter pointed to Dr. Morton. “He can be Osric.”

“Osric?” Joseph asked. “Who’s Osric?”

“Never seen Hamlet?” Mr. Carter asked.

“I have, but I don’t remember Osric.”

“He’s a courtier. A functionary. He’s the judge of the fencing contest. It’s a very simple role. You say “A hit, a very palpable hit.”

“That sounds like something I can do.” Joseph said.

“Your character is that you're an obsequious courtier. Hamlet called you a waterfly, a dainty little nuisance. You are on Laertes' side. But the hit is palpable. You can’t deny that Laertes has been hit.”

“Oh. I can see why you gave me this part.” Joseph said. “Do I say the line now?”

“Yes. Action!” Mr. Carter directed.

“A hit, a very palpable hit.” Osric said.

“Well, again.” Laertes swished his rapier through the air. He was more than ready for another chance.

“Dr. Ernst, would you care to be Claudius?” Mr. Carter asked.

“I would love to.” Matthew replied. “I’ve always found the villains of Shakespeare’s works to be fascinating. I’m not sure of the lines, however.”

“That’s perfectly fine, I will tell them to you and all you’ll need to do will be to repeat after me.”

Matthew petted Tybalt. “And I suppose you can be Gertrude. At least until we need Gertrude to speak.”

Mr. Carter clapped his hands “We need props! We need Claudius’ cup of wine and his poisoned pearl.”

Hamlet let go of his rapier. The practice foil floated in the air next to him. He held out his hands to Mr. Carter. In one, a large, jeweled goblet appeared. In the other, a small, glassy pearl.

“That’s a very handy ability.” Matthew said.

“It is.” Mr. Carter agreed. “He’s an actor and a prop master. He doesn’t just do the work of an entire troupe of actors, he does the work of an entire theater company.”