And then Morelli was undoubtedly a queer person. Tony was a very healthy normal boy, not at all given to unnecessary terror, but he had been frightened by Morelli. And then there were a host of little things, none of them amounting to anything in themselves, but taken together—oh yes! the man was queer. The street was quite empty; the lamplighter had not yet reached that part of the town and the top of the hill was lost in darkness. Maradick found the bell and rang it, and even as he did so a curious feeling of uneasiness began to creep over him. He, suddenly and quite unconsciously, wanted to run away. He began to imagine that there was something waiting for him on the other side of the door, and when it actually opened and showed him only Lucy, the little maid-of-all-work, he almost started with surprise. “No, sir; they’re all out. I don’t know when Miss Janet will be back, I’m sure. I’m expecting the master any moment, sir.” She seemed, Maradick thought, a little frightened. “I don’t know, I’m sure, sir, about Miss Janet; she said nothing about dinner, sir. I’ve been alone.” She stopped and twisted her apron in her hands. Maradick looked down the street, then he turned back and looked past her into the hall. “Mr. Morelli told me that he would be back about now,” he said; “I promised to wait.” She stood aside to let him enter the hall. She was obviously relieved that there was some one else in the house. She was even inclined to be a little confidential. “That kitchen,” she said and stopped. “Yes?” he said, standing in the hall and looking at her. “Well, it fairly gives you the creeps. Being alone all day down in the basement too. . . .” There was a little choke in her voice and her face was very white in the darkness. She was quite a child and not very tidy; pathetic, Maradick thought. “Well,” he said, “your master will be back in a minute.” “Yes, sir, and it’s all dark, sir. I’ll light the lamp upstairs.” She led the way with a candle. He followed her up the stairs, and his uneasiness seemed to increase with every step that he took. He had a strange consciousness that Morelli had really returned and that he was waiting for him somewhere in the darkness. The stairs curved, and he could see the very faint light of the higher landing above him; the candle that the girl carried flung their two heads on to the wall, gigantic, absurd. His hair seemed to stand up in the shadow like a forest and his nose was hooked like an elephant’s trunk. She lit the lamp in the sitting-room and then stood with the candle by the door. “I suppose you couldn’t tell me, sir,” she said timidly, “when Miss Janet is likely—what time she’ll be in?” “Your master will probably be able to tell you,” said Maradick.