They searched the room. They came out thence and searched the hall. They went up into the garret and searched the rooms over our heads. And, finding no one, they returned, wondering and conjecturing to their chamber, and for the third time that night fast locked their door. "Take the key out, John," said Mr. Howard. And John withdrew the key and took it to bed with him. About fifteen minutes more passed and then--"click!" flew the lock, open swung the door, and out of bed jumped John, in a state of mind between affright and rage. "John, never mind! It is clear that the door will not remain closed; leave it open; to-morrow I will look at the lock and see what is amiss," said Mr. Howard. And for the fourth time that night I heard my brother muttering like distant thunder, go back to his bed. But I do not think that he slept that night, and I am sure that I did not. In the morning I felt weary, and certain that if this mysterious visitation continued, I should go mad. As I was dressing before the toilet mirror, the reflection of my own face in the glass startled and terrified me, it looked so pale, wild and haggard, and not unlike the awful face of the midnight spectre. When Rachel and myself were dressed and ready to go down, I opened the door. And just at that moment my brother and Mr. Howard came out of their chamber and bade us "Good-morning." "Were you at our door last night, Agnes?" John asked me. "At your door, John? Certainly not." "Wasn't you, though?" "Assuredly not. What should have brought me there?" "Well, somebody was, that's all!" said my brother, while Mr. Howard silently looked what he did not say. We all went down together to the parlor, where a fine fire was burning, and Mathilde, in her fresh morning beauty, waited to welcome us. And soon our host and hostess entered, and in a few moments the breakfast was announced, and we all adjourned to the table. Breakfast was served long before the usual hour, that the gentlemen of our party might make an early start upon the fox hunt that Mr. Legare had arranged for that day. While we were still at the table, Mrs. Legare bethought herself to hope that the gentlemen had rested well; when my brusque and thoughtless brother John said: "No, indeed, my dear madam! We were 'fashed wi' a bogle' all night long." "Sir?" "He means, madam, that we could not by any means keep our door locked, and had finally to give up the attempt," explained Mr. Howard. A deathly paleness overspread Mrs. Legare's face. I knew she regretted the question that she had been tempted to ask, and now she receded from the subject. Mr. Legare, who had kept his eyes averted and turned a deaf ear to the disclosure, now adroitly changed the topic by speaking of the hunt. The horses were neighing with impatience in the yard, and as soon as the gentlemen arose from the breakfast-table, they prepared themselves, mounted and rode off to their day's sport.