There was there merest of orange glows still there, so he threw on kindling and another log while he waited for the second spirit.
"Now that is what a fire should be," said a happy, large voice beside his chair.
Startled, Baron turned and found himself faced with a great bear of a man, though he was shrunk down to fit in the Bureau quite comfortably.
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the hairy man, seeing the question on Baron's own cat-face. "Will you join me for a Christmas Day? Good," he said, not waiting for an answer but merely wrapping one velvet-clad arm around the gentleman feline's silk-covered shoulders.
The Bureau dissolved, and Baron watched as children ran in the streets, throwing snowballs and playing with toys. Families visited with their neighbours, and music could be heard issuing loudly from a few doors.
"You know what a joy Christmas can be, don't you my friend?" asked the spirit, a glint in his onyx eyes and a smile rearranging the beard on his face.
"I did once, but it's just been a time to relive sad memories for me for a long time," Baron answered.
"That is foolishness! Muta makes merry to numb the pain of the past, you saw him yourself. Oh! There he goes!" yelled the spirit, chasing after the fat cat.
Baron followed. It did not seem a sensible thing to be separated from his guide in this vision of Christmas, as it would be in a few hours time.
He jerked to a halt, surprised by what he saw: Muta acting shy. In his mouth, the large cat had carried a hamper, filled with all sorts of Christmas treats, and now he lay it down on the ground before a crack in the wall.
"Here, I told you I'd bring you something. Won't you come out?" Muta called, stepping back from the hamper.
A nose emerged, and two ears, and Baron realised that he was seeing a kitten, much like Muta had been, rail thin and freezing.
"He likes to complain a lot, but really he has a heart of gold," Baron said to himself, knowing now just how very true it was.
"You sure you don't want to find a family? I know a great kid, she'd love you take care of you," Muta said, opening the hamper and helping the kitten to steaming food and warm milk.
"I don't trust humans any more," the kitten said. "Not since the man threw me and my brothers and sisters away in a sack."
"At least you made it out," Muta said, wrapping a blanket around the kitten as she lapped up the warm milk hungrily.
"She's in good paws," the spirit said happily, a hand on Baron's shoulder.
"Where are we going now?" Baron asked, following the ghost willingly, curious to see what else this night held for him.
"We're going to see a friend," he said, turning a corner and walking down a garden path to the door of Haru Yoshioka.
"Haru," Baron whispered, going ahead of his guide through the front door and into the small living room, where Haru and her mother were sharing a meagre Christmas Lunch. The tree was up, decorated, the star sitting on top, and underneath, hidden amid all the torn paper, was one last present, addressed: to the man of the house.
His heart ached to see that. He had seen it beneath the tree when the Ghost of Christmas Past brought him here. It must have been for Mr Yoshioka, and every year they brought it out and put it under the tree.
His eyes stung with tears.
"To what we have left," Haru toasted, her voice determinedly cheerful, though he could see her eyes were red with unshed tears as well.
"To happy memories," Naoko replied, raising her glass to her daughter's. "May they never make us sad." There was a hitch in the woman's voice; she looked about to cry as well.
They must have been talking about Haru's father, thought the Baron as he watched them drain their cups.
"Is it okay for me to go for a walk, Mum?" Haru asked, the meal finished.
"Want to show off your new dress to all the boys?"
Haru blushed. "And Hiromi," she said.
"Go on then."
"Now Baron," said the ghost, drawing the figurine's attention away from the young woman who he cared for more than he would admit to himself. "I have a Christmas gift for you, before my time is over," he said, reaching deep into a horn-like basket that Baron hadn't noticed before. It overflowed with fruit, but what the great hairy man drew out was a small box, wrapped in pale gold paper and tied with a white ribbon.
"That, dear fellow, is a Christmas Wish. One use only, and irreversible. Don't open it now, save it for the morning, when you've had some time to think about what you really want to do with it," instructed the spirit, fading away. When he was almost gone, he pointed over Baron's shoulder. "You have one more spirit to meet," he said.