The following day we viewed the vacant flat, but found, upon inquiry of the agent, that it had already been let. However, as our own rooms suited us very well, we were not greatly concerned. Just as we finished dinner the same evening, Halesowen came in, and, without preamble, plunged into a surprising tale of uncanny happenings at his place. “Take it slow,” said Lesty. “You say it was after we came away?” “About an hour after,” replied Halesowen. “I had brought out the potsherd, and had it in the wooden stand on the table before me. I was copying the hieroglyphics, which are unusual, and had my reading lamp burning only, the rest of the room being consequently in shadow. I was sitting with my back to the windows, facing the door, so no one could possibly have entered the room unseen by me. It was as I bent down to scrutinize a badly defaced character that I felt a queer sensation stealing over me, as though someone were standing close behind my chair, watching me!” “Very common,” explained Lesty; “merely nerves.” “Yes, I know; but not what followed. The sensation became so pronounced that I stood up. No one was in the room. I determined to take a stroll, concluding that the fresh air would clear these uncanny cobwebs out of my brain. Accordingly, I extinguished the lamp and went out. I was just putting my cap on when something prompted me to return and lock up the potsherd.” He fixed his eyes upon us with an expression of doubt. “There was someone, or something, in the room!” “What do you mean?” asked Lesty, incredulously. “I quite distinctly saw a hand and bare white arm pass away from the table--and vanish! It was dark in the room, remember; but I could see the arm well enough. I switched on the reading lamp. Not a thing was to be seen. There was no one in the room and no one but myself in the flat, for I searched it thoroughly!” Some moments of silence followed this remarkable story, and I sat watching Lesty, who, in turn, was regarding Halesowen with the stolid, vacant stare which sometimes served to conceal the working of his keen brain. “Pity you didn’t let us know sooner,” he said, rising slowly to his feet. “This is interesting.” II Halesowen’s nerves evidently had been shaken by the inexplicable incident. As the three of us strode across the corner of the Common, he informed us that the new tenant of the adjoining flat had moved in. “I have been away all day,” he said; “but the stuff was bundled in some time during the afternoon.” We proceeded upstairs and into the cosy room which had been the scene of the remarkable occurrence related. As it was growing dark, Halesowen turned on the electric light, and, indicating a chair by the writing table, explained that it was there he had been seated at the time. “Did you have the windows open?” asked Lesty. “Yes,” was the reply. “I left the chairs and the awning out, too, as it was a fine night; in fact, you can see that they still remain practically as you left them.”