Scarcely had we set foot on the porch, when the door opened silently and a gray haired, white jacketed man with burning gray eyes that looked out from hollow recesses in a pale, wrinkled, and cadaverous countenance, stood aside, hand on latch, for us to enter. So loathsome in appearance was this deathlike creature that I had a feeling of repugnance even at the thought of permitting him to take my hat in his bony, claw-like hands. After disposing of our hats, he conducted us to a commodious living room, tastily furnished, where we were greeted by our charming hostess. Then he silently withdrew, closing the door after him. Although she maintained a brave, calm demeanor, I noticed that the hand of Miss Van Loan was trembling as I took it in mine. The doctor, also, must have noticed this, for he quickly transferred his long, slim fingers to her pulse. “Has anything happened?” he asked consulting his watch. “Nothing yet, but I have been oppressed by a horrible feeling which I cannot explain. I have worried, too, for fear something might prevent your coming.” “You are a very brave young woman,” he said, pocketing his watch and releasing her wrist, “but you have been under exceptionally severe nervous strain. Just now you are beginning to feel the reaction. Your heart, however, is good, and I believe another night of it can do you no permanent injury. Were this not the case, I should advise you to immediately leave this house, despite the tremendous financial stake involved.” “But, doctor, do you think the--the presence, can be driven out in one night?” “That is my hope. I have a theory--” His speech was suddenly interrupted by a noisy rattling of the doorknob--the very door which the servant had silently closed a few minutes before. “It is coming!” said the girl breathlessly, a note of terror in her voice. The three of us watched the door silently--intently. It opened, revealing the dimly lighted hallway, in which no living creature was visible. For a moment it remained open as if someone were standing there with a hand on the knob. Then it closed with a bang. I felt a prickly sensation in my scalp, then started from my tracks at the sound of a throaty rumble behind me. “That is Sandy, my Airedale,” explained the girl, “hiding in the corner behind the davenport. He always growls when it comes.” “I believe he scared me worse than _it_,” I said with a nervous laugh, sinking back on the davenport, relieved by the realization that the noise, at least, had been earthly. “It is now in the room,” said the girl. “Don’t you feel a strange presence?” “Not yet,” said the doctor gravely.