I threw myself back in the bed, and as I did so a mass of charred wood on the hearth fell down and sent up a flash of--I fancy sparks, that gave out a glare in the darkness, and by that--red as blood--I saw a face near me. With a cry, over which I had as little control as the scream uttered by a sleeper in the agony of a nightmare, I called: "Who are you?" There was an instant during which my hair bristled on my head, as in the horror of the darkness I prepared to grapple with the being at my side; when a board creaked as if someone had moved, and I heard the footsteps retreat, and again the click of the latch. The next instant there was a rush on the stairs and Lynton burst into the room, just as he had sprung out of bed, crying: "For God's sake, what is the matter? Are you ill?" I could not answer. Lynton struck a light and leant over the bed. Then I seized him by the arm, and said without moving: "There has been something in this room--gone in thither." The words were hardly out of my mouth when Lynton, following the direction of my eyes, had sprung to the end of the corridor and thrown open the door there. He went into the room beyond, looked round it, returned, and said: "You must have been dreaming." By this time I was out of bed. "Look for yourself," said he, and he led me into the little room. It was bare, with cupboards and boxes, a sort of lumber-place. "There is nothing beyond this," said he, "no door, no staircase. It is a _cul-de-sac_." Then he added: "Now pull on your dressing-gown and come downstairs to my sanctum." I followed him, and after he had spoken to Lady Lynton, who was standing with the door of her room ajar in a state of great agitation, he turned to me and said: "No one can have been in your room. You see my and my wife's apartments are close below, and no one could come up the spiral staircase without passing my door. You must have had a nightmare. Directly you screamed I rushed up the steps, and met no one descending; and there is no place of concealment in the lumber-room at the end of the gallery." Then he took me into his private snuggery, blew up the fire, lighted a lamp, and said: "I shall be really grateful if you will say nothing about this. There are some in the house and neighbourhood who are silly enough as it is. You stay here, and if you do not feel inclined to go to bed, read--here are books. I must go to Lady Lynton, who is a good deal frightened, and does not like to be left alone." He then went to his bedroom. Sleep, as far as I was concerned, was out of the question, nor do I think that Sir Francis or his wife slept much either. I made up the fire, and after a time took up a book, and tried to read, but it was useless. I sat absorbed in thoughts and questionings till I heard the servants stirring in the morning. I then went to my own room, left the candle burning, and got into bed. I had just fallen asleep when my servant brought me a cup of tea at eight o'clock.