I returned to the inn, knocked up 'Boots,' went silently to bed, and slept late. As soon as I was up I went to see how Maxwell fared, and found him sitting up and drinking a cup of tea. He looked a little pale, but otherwise was not much worse for his misadventure. 'Now,' I said, after, congratulating him on his recovery, 'if it doesn't excite you too much tell me exactly what occurred in the churchyard last night, for 'tis an absolute mystery to me, besides having given me an awful "gliff," old fellow, for I have been wondering what might have happened if I hadn't by the merest chance discovered you in your premature grave.' 'I should probably have got an infernal chill, old chap, had it not been for your kindly foresight,' he replied with a smile; then with a change of tone he went on, 'But it was the most extraordinary adventure conceivable--so extraordinary that you'll scarcely credit me in relating it. 'I felt curiously attracted by the old church and the tomb within, so I went across after leaving you and wandered about the churchyard. Close beside the corner of the north transept was the empty grave, as you know, and beside it a quaint old headstone with an interesting coat-of-arms upon it. I knelt down and tried to decipher the blazon in the moonlight. 'Suddenly I felt as if some one were near me--some one with an ill intent, and, turning, saw stepping out of the shadow a figure with its face outlined against the moon, the exact image of the Lord Warden on the tomb in the transept. I felt the same access of rage I had experienced in the church sweep over me. I clenched my fists unconsciously. "You're one of the false Maxwells?" he said threateningly. "And you're a damned murderer," I retorted, and let out at him with my fists. At that moment I felt a sharp, stinging blow on my temple, and, reeling backward, tripped and fell--in a night of stars as it were--all of a huddle into the empty grave.' Maxwell stopped, looked me directly in the face. 'That's all I remember--and that's an exact description of my strange adventure.' Whilst I was recovering from my astonishment at his weird story, the doctor was announced, and came forward to shake hands with his patient. 'Tell the doctor,' said Maxwell to me, 'exactly what I have told you, and let us hear what he has to say.' I obeyed, and when I had concluded I inquired if he felt able to put any faith in the relation. 'Doctors are often a sceptical folk,' he replied with a smile, 'but if they are wise they try to account for things. Once out of curiosity I stayed a night in a "haunted house," as it was called, and I confess I did not like the experience. I had that curious feeling as of a hostile presence which your friend evidently had both in the church and in the churchyard. I saw nothing, but I had strange impressions borne in on me, and I heard noises I could not account for.'