At any rate it seemed plain that nothing took place inside that polished tomb to attract their attention. The bearers passed through the swing doors, out into the street. I waited. No doubt the coffin was being placed inside the hearse. Was Mr. Babbacombe aware of it? Presently one of the undertaker's men returned to fetch the four hats which had been left behind in the room. He went down the stairs with two in either hand. Another interval. Presumably the hearse had started. What was that noise--like the scratching of fingernails against wood? Whose voice called me? Did it come from the bed? I spun round like a teetotum. It was merely a delusion. It must have been. The bed was unoccupied. Its emptiness affected me more than anything which had gone before. It exercised on me so singular a fascination that I continued to stare at it as if unable to take my eyes away. What was that noise--like the scratching of a man's nails against wood? The hearse must have long since got out of the street. If it had a fast pair of horses it was probably already half-way to the station. It could not come from the bed. When--I do not know how long afterwards--I went down the stairs, feeling as if a century had elapsed since I went up them, the landlord stopped me to express a hope that everything had been done to my satisfaction. BOOK II.--THE LOST HUSBAND THE STORY IS CONTINUED BY MRS. JAMES MERRETT CHAPTER XI AN ENCOUNTER IN PICCADILLY I couldn't make it out. Nor could Mr. FitzHoward. 'Well,' said Mr. FitzHoward to me, 'your governor certainly is a caution'--which I was far from denying it--'but this beats anything; it does that.' And tilting his hat on to the back of his head, he looked at the ceiling, as if in the hope of seeing James up there. But nothing of the kind. 'You say you've heard nothing of him,' he continued. 'You're quite sure? This isn't a little game he's playing off on me, in which you're taking a hand?' 'Mr. FitzHoward, I'm not that sort of person. I've not heard one word; nor half a one. He came home that night after he'd been doing that sleep at the Aquarium--well, he'd been drinking.' 'You'd have been drinking if you'd only just woke up after being asleep for thirty days.' 'No, Mr. FitzHoward, I should not; though I can quite understand what an awful feeling it must be. And how he can go wasting his life like that----' 'You don't call it wasting his life when he earns nearly a hundred pounds in a month?'