"You dreamed it," said Milly, smiling at him. "Or else----" "Milly daren't say it," laughed Eve, "but I will. Or else, you invented the yarn." "If I'm to be called a----" "Tut, tut, Mr. Bruce," intervened Tracy, "nobody called you one! Playful prevarication is all right, especially as you warned us you'd fool us if you could. Now I can tell an experience and justly expect to be believed." "But you haven't had any," and Eve's translucent eyes turned to him. "I have," began Tracy, slowly, "but they've been a bit indefinite. It's unsatisfactory to present only an impression or a suggestion, where facts are wanted. And the Professor says truly that hints and haunts are convincing at night, but repeated, at a pleasant, comfortable tea hour, they sound flimsy and unconvincing." "What did you think you saw or heard?" asked Norma, with a reminiscent, far-off look in her eyes. "Every morning, or almost every morning, at four o'clock, I seem to hear the trailing robes of a presence of some sort. I seem to hear a faint moaning sound, that is like nothing human." "That's imagination," said Braye, promptly. "It is, doubtless," agreed Hardwick, "but it is due to what may be called 'expectant attention.' If we had not connected four o'clock with the story of this house, Mr. Tracy would not have those hallucinations at that time." "Perhaps so," the clergyman looked thoughtful. "But it seems vivid and real at the time. Then, in the later morning, it is merely a hazy memory." "You know Mr. Stebbins said that every one who died in this house always died at four o'clock." "I know he _said_ so," and Braye looked quizzical. "Oh, come now, don't doubt honest old Stebbins!" and Eve frowned. "We must believe _his_ tales or we'll never get anywhere. I'm going over to East Dryden to see him to-morrow, I want a few more details. And, it seems to me, we're getting nowhere,--with our imaginations and hallucinations. Now, to-night, I'm going to sleep in the Room with the Tassels. I've no fear of it, and I have a deep and great curiosity." "Oh, let me sleep there with you! Mayn't I, Eve? Oh, please let me!" Vernie danced about in her eagerness, and knelt before Eve, pleading. "No, Vernie, I forbid it," said her uncle, decidedly. "If Miss Carnforth wants to do this thing, I have nothing to say, but you must not, my child. I know you people don't believe me, but I surely saw an apparition the night I slept there, and it was no human trickster. Neither was it hallucination. I was as wideawake as I am now----" "We know the rest, Uncle Gif," and Braye laughingly interrupted the recital. "Stalking ghost, hollow groans, and--were there clanking chains?" "There were not, but in its shrouded hand the spectre held a glass----" "Of prussic acid, of which you smelt the strong odour! Yes, I know,--but it won't go down, old chap----" "The prussic acid won't?" and Landon chuckled.