Raising my eyes to the door I discovered to my amazement that the figure of the girl had vanished. Nerving myself to the effort, I stepped softly into the passage and gazed along and at the staircases above and below me, but saw no movement of substance or shadow. Returning to the room I was irresistibly impelled by a desire to convince myself whether the cat which had accompanied me to and fro was as palpable to touch as to sight. Kneeling to put this to the test I found myself kneeling on my wife's dress. So engrossed had I been in the astounding apparitions that I had paid no attention to her, and now I saw that she had fainted. Before devoting myself to her I passed my hand over the cat and came in contact with nothing in the shape of substance. It was truly a specter, and I beheld it as clearly as I beheld the body of my wife lying at my side. I took my flask from my pocket and bathed my wife's forehead, and poured a few drops of brandy and water down her throat, and I was presently relieved by seeing her eyes open. She closed them again immediately, and said, in a whisper: "Is it gone?" Anxious to learn what she had seen--for I inwardly argued that I might myself be the victim of a strange delusion--I met her inquiry by asking: "Is what gone, Maria?" "The girl," she murmured; "that dreadful figure that came into the room?" "Look for yourself," I said. It was not without apprehension that I made the request, and I nervously followed the direction of her eyes. "It is not in the room," she sighed. "But, Edward, who opened the door?" "The wind blew it open, most likely." "You locked it, Edward! I heard you turn the key in the lock." "I thought I did, but I must have been mistaken. Terrified as we were, how could we trust the evidence of our senses? And do you suppose there's a lock in the house in proper order?" "It must have been my fancy. Did _you_ see nothing?" How should I answer her? Revive her terror by telling her that she was under no delusion, but that the spectral figure of the young girl had really presented itself; or, out of kindness to her, strive to banish her fears by a pardonable falsehood? Before I decided how to act I felt it necessary to ascertain whether the cat lying in full view to me was visible to her. "Maria," I said, "take the evidence of your senses. Look round the room--at the door, at the walls, at the ceiling, on the floor--and tell me what you see." With timid eyes she obeyed, and glanced in every direction, not omitting the spot upon which the skeleton cat was lying. "I don't see anything, Edward." "Does not that prove that the figure you spoke of was a trick of the imagination?" "You actually saw nothing?" "Nothing." All this time she had been sitting on the floor, keeping tight hold of me. I assisted her to her feet; she was so weak that she could hardly stand. "For Heaven's sake!" she said "do not let us remain in the house another minute."