"I am going for a drive," she said. "Will you come with me?" "Not this morning," I replied. "If you ask me to-morrow, I shall be pleased to accompany you." "Well, go to Henry," she answered. "Talk to him--find out what ails him, order tonics for him. Cheer him in every way in your power. You say he is not ill--not seriously ill--I know better. My impression is that if my days are numbered, so are his." She went away, and I sought her husband. As soon as the wheels of her brougham were heard bowling away over the gravel sweep, we went up together to his room. "That eye came twice last night," he said in an awestruck whisper to me. "I am a doomed man--a doomed man. I cannot bear this any longer." We were standing in the room as he said the words. Even in broad daylight, I could see that he glanced round him with apprehension. He was shaking quite visibly. The room was decidedly old-fashioned, but the greater part of the furniture was modern. The bed was an Albert one with a spring mattress, and light, cheerful dimity hangings. The windows were French--they were wide open, and let in the soft, pleasant air, for the day was truly a spring one in winter. The paper on the walls was light. "This is a quaint old wardrobe," I said. "It looks out of place with the rest of the furniture. Why don't you have it removed?" [Illustration: "DON'T GO NEAR IT--I DREAD IT!"] "Hush," he said, with a gasp. "Don't go near it--I dread it, I have locked it. It is always in that direction that the apparition appears. The apparition seems to grow out of the glass of the wardrobe. It always appears in that one spot." "I see," I answered. "The wardrobe is built into the wall. That is the reason it cannot be removed. Have you got the key about you?" He fumbled in his pocket, and presently produced a bunch of keys. "I wish you wouldn't open the wardrobe," he said. "I frankly admit that I dislike having it touched." "All right," I replied. "I will not examine it while you are in the room. You will perhaps allow me to keep the key?" "Certainly! You can take it from the bunch, if you wish. This is it. I shall be only too glad to have it well out of my own keeping." "We will go downstairs," I said. We returned to Sir Henry's library. It was my turn now to lock the door. "Why do you do that?" he asked. "Because I wish to be quite certain that no one overhears our conversation." "What have you got to say?" "I have a plan to propose to you." "What is it?" "I want you to change bedrooms with me to-night." "What can you mean?--what will Lady Studley say?" "Lady Studley must know nothing whatever about the arrangement. I think it very likely that the apparition which troubles you will be discovered to have a material foundation. In short, I am determined to get to the bottom of this horror. You have seen it often, and your nerves are much shattered. I have never seen it, and my nerves are, I think, in tolerable order. If I sleep in your room to-night--"