"Lady Beltham laughed at me. But, sir, I had my own ideas. I watched in the garden daily and I heard the same sounds and always on Tuesday nights. At last I laid a trap; I put a chalk mark round the chairs in Lady Beltham's room, she being still away. Well, sir, when I came to the house again on Thursday the chairs had been moved. I told Lady Beltham, and this time she seemed very much frightened. It is since then she made up her mind to sell the house." "For all that, what makes you say they are spirits?" "What else could it be, sir. I also heard the sounds of chains jangling. One night I even heard a strange and terrible hiss." "Well!" cried the stout man, beginning to go down the staircase, "since the house is haunted I shall have to pay less for it; eh, Emile?" "You will buy, sir, in spite of that?" "To be sure. Your phantoms alarm me less than the damp." "Oh, the damp? That can be easily remedied. You will see that we have a central heating stove installed." The porter led his visitors down a narrow stair to the cellars. "Take care, gentlemen, the stairs are slippery." Then he observed: "You don't need a candle, the gratings are big enough to give plenty of light." "What is that?" asked the young man, pointing to a huge iron cylinder embedded in the earth and rising some four-and-a-half feet above the floor. "The cistern of which I spoke, as you can see for yourselves, it is all but full." The porter hurried them on. "That is the heating stove. There are conductors throughout the house. When it is in full blast the house is even too warm." "But your grate stove is in pieces!" objected the stout man, pointing with his stick to iron plates torn out of one side of the central furnace. "Oh, sir, that happened at the time of the floods. But it won't cost much to put it right. If you gentlemen will examine the inside of the apparatus you will see that the pipes are in perfect order." The uncle followed the porter's suggestion. "Your pipes are as big as chimneys; a man could pass through them." The inspection ended, uncle and nephew bestowed a liberal tip on their guide. They would think it over and write or come again soon. The two relatives retraced their steps to Boulevard Inkermann. "Fandor?" "Juve?" "We have got them!" Uncle and nephew--that is to say, Juve and Fandor--could talk quite freely now. "Juve, are you certain that we have got them?" Juve pushed his friend into a wine-shop and ordered drinks. He then drew from his pocket a piece of paper, quite blank. "What is that?" "A bit of paper I picked up on Lady Beltham's desk while the porter's back was turned. It will serve for a little experiment. If it is not long since a hand rested on it, we shall find the print." "On this blank paper?" "Yes, Fandor. Look!" Juve drew a pencil from his pocket and scratched off a fine dust of graphite which he shook over the paper. Gradually the outline of a hand appeared, faint, but quite visible.