The following two hours were devoted to preparing supper, and while we were thus employed we discussed our movements for to-morrow. Bob insisted that Ronald Elsdale should be made acquainted with all that had transpired, and I consented. Our first visit in the morning was to be paid to the inquiry agent, our second to Dr. Cooper, our third to Ronald. Bob was thoroughly in earnest, and I perceived that his interest in the matter was now no less than my own. I have already stated that the room we had selected was on the second floor, and that its windows faced the back garden. There were Venetian blinds to the window, and some of the slats were awry and loose from long neglect. For a reason which he did not explain Bob shaded the one candle which we had lighted, so that the fact of the apartment being occupied could not be quite clearly established from without. Several times Bob went to the window and cautiously peeped through the crooked slats. "What for, Bob?" I asked. "Just a fancy of mine," he replied. "Is your apparition present?" "It is not." The weather had suddenly changed, in fit accordance with the extraordinary vagaries of our beautiful climate. A fine night had set in, and there was a full bright moon. In the middle of a game of cribbage Bob rose once more, and stepped to the window and remained there. "Don't touch the candle, Ned," he said, "and move cautiously. Come here quietly, so as not to give an observer outside any indication that human beings are in the room." I obeyed him, and presently was standing motionless by his side, peeping through the slats. The garden was bathed in light. Standing in full view I saw a man facing our window, his eyes intently fixed in our direction in the endeavor to discover whether the apartment was inhabited. "Can you see him plainly?' "Quite plainly, Bob." "Who is it?" "Mr. Oliver Nisbet." "Ah!" And now a strange incident occurred, visible to me, but not to Bob. In the clear moonlight I saw the skeleton cat creeping toward the man who was watching. Slowly it advanced and fastened itself upon him, and climbed upward till it reached his shoulder. And there it squatted, its yellow eyes resting ominously on Mr. Nisbet's face. He seemed to be perfectly unconscious of the presence of the apparition, but to me it was an unmistakable sign, more powerful than the strongest human proof, that the man had been guilty of a horrible crime. In silence we stood at the window for several minutes, and then Mr. Nisbet slunk away to the rear of the garden. He climbed the crumbling wall which encompassed it, and was gone. "What do you say to that, Ned?" asked Bob. I could not answer, so enthralled was I by the spiritual evidence of guilt of which I had been a witness. Bob looked at me inquiringly. "Your face is as white as death," he said. "Are you ill?"