At seven o'clock that evening he stood on the pavement immediately in front of No. -- Regency Square. All the blinds were down, and this circumstance, combined with an atmosphere of silence and desolation, told him that the house was no longer inhabited. Somewhat perplexed, he asked the servant next door if she could tell him where Mr. Nimkin lived. "Not in Heaven," the girl replied tartly. "He did live in No. -- till his wife died, but after that he went to live on the other side of the town. He died himself a few days ago, and I believe his funeral took place this afternoon." "And No. -- where his wife died is now empty," Pelamon observed. "Yes, it's been empty ever since," she replied, and, sinking her voice to a whisper, "folks say it's haunted. I can't altogether bring myself to believe in ghosts--but I've heard noises," and she laughed uneasily. "Had he any children?" Pelamon asked. "No," the girl answered, "and he has left the money he hoarded--he was the meanest of old sticks--to the hospital for consumptives." "A worthy cause," Pelamon commented. The girl nodded. "His wife was a consumptive," she went on. "I remember her well--a pretty, fair-haired creature with a lovely skin, and"--here she shuddered--"a shocking cough." Then, thrusting her head close to Pelamon, and fixing him with a frightened glance, she whispered, "It was the cough that killed her!" Pelamon stared at her in astonishment. "Why, of course," he said. "It's the cough that kills all consumptives. I've buried scores of them." The girl shook her head. "You don't understand," she said, "but I daren't tell you any more; and, after all, it's only what we thought. Anyhow, he's dead now, and a good job too. Did you want to see him?" "Oh, it was nothing very particular," Pelamon replied. "Who has the keys of the house?" The girl's jaws dropped and her eyes grew as big as turtle's eggs. "The keys!" she exclaimed. "Mercy on us, you don't intend going there?" "That's my business," Pelamon replied haughtily; and then, not wishing to offend her, he added: "I heard the place was to be let, and as I want a house in this particular locality, I thought I would call and look at it, that's all! I am not a burglar!" The girl giggled. "A burglar!" she said. "Oh no, you're not sharp enough for that. Besides, the house is empty." "What!" Pelamon exclaimed. "Has all the furniture been taken away?" "All but the blinds," the girl nodded. "There was a sale here the day after Mrs. Nimkin was buried, and at it crowds of people; some of the furniture fetched an enormous price. I did hear that the house was sold too, but I'll ask the missus to make sure." She ran upstairs, and returned in a few minutes. "Yes," she said, "the house is sold, and the new people are coming in soon." "Then that settles the matter," Pelamon said, and, thanking her in his usual terse and precise way, he withdrew.