Some time later Douglas opened his sleepy eyes, then closed them again drowsily. The room was in total darkness. As he lay listening to the tick-tock of the clock he became conscious that he was not alone in the room. Instantly he was wide awake. He pulled out his matchbox, only to find it empty. As he lay a moment debating what he should do, a soft, small hand was laid on his forehead. He felt the sudden shock which his presence gave the intruder, for the fingers tightened convulsively on his forehead, then were hastily removed. He threw out his hands to catch the intruder, but they closed on empty space. Swiftly and noiselessly Douglas rose to his feet and stepped softly around the end of the davenport, hands outstretched, groping for what he could not see. Suddenly, his eyes grown accustomed to the darkness, he made out a shadowy form just ahead of him and darted forward. His foot caught in the long wire of the desk telephone and, dragging the instrument clattering with him, he fell forward, striking his face and forehead against the edge of the open door. "Fo' de lub ob Hebben!" gasped Joshua, awakened out of a sound sleep, and scared almost out of his wits. "Marse Hunter! Marse Hunter! Whar yo' at?" "Here," answered Douglas. "Turn on the hall light; then come to me." Obediently Joshua groped his way to the button and switched on the light, after which he hastened into the library and did the same there. Douglas, who sat on the floor nursing a bleeding nose, blinked as the strong light met his dazed eyes. "Did you see anyone leave this room, Joshua?" he demanded. "No, suh." The butler's eyes were rolling about to an alarming extent, showing the whites against his black face, which had grown gray with fright. "'Twarn't no one ter see--it must ter been a harnt." "Nonsense," exclaimed Douglas heatedly. The telephone bell was keeping up a dull clicking as the sleepy central tried to find out what was wanted, and he leaned over and replaced the receiver on the hook as he picked up the instrument. "No ghost put out your hall light, and no ghost wears clothes. I caught the intruder's gown, and if it hadn't ripped away I'd have caught her." As he spoke he opened his right hand and disclosed a torn piece of oriental silk. CHAPTER VIII KISMET "Good morning, Uncle Dana." The tall, distinguished looking, gray-haired man standing in front of the mantel wheeled around with a visible start of surprise. "Good Lord! Eleanor, I didn't hear you enter the room. How silently you move, dear." Eleanor's pretty mouth dimpled into a smile as she kissed her uncle warmly. "I'll send you an ear-trumpet," she declared, saucily. "Come and sit by me on this sofa. Did you get my note this morning?" "How like a woman!" He dropped down on the comfortable rosewood sofa with a sigh of content. "Of course I received it--why otherwise should I be here?" "Then you will take the case?" she asked eagerly. "I am not a criminal lawyer."