"Uncanny! How dare you?" exclaimed Angelo so fiercely that the poor little maid shrank behind the others in dismay. "Your dislike of it exposes you to suspicion. You, or some of your fellow servants here, from an absurd fear, have destroyed it. Produce the picture, you gaping pack of menials! My picture! my picture!" And he sank down again on the seat, the very image of despair. "What Mr. Vasari says is perfectly correct," said the Baronet. "Suspicion rests on you all till the picture be produced. There is a silly story going the round among you that a ghost is seen in this hall at night. I need not tell you I do not believe it; but even if it were so, what has that to do with the picture's disappearing? A ghost, according to your own theory, you know, is nothing but air: now a being that is simply air cannot carry off a heavy picture, any more than the sunbeams shining through that casement can lift this chair. No; human hands have been at work here, that's quite clear." There was silence for a time, and then Fruin, stepping forward and clearing his throat, said: "Sir Hugh, I ought to have spoken before, perhaps, but knowing how much you hate ghost stories, I didn't like to speak." "Well, speak now," said the Baronet impatiently--"that is," he added, "if your story is a fresh one, and not a mere repetition of last night's nonsense." "My bedroom, as you know, Sir Hugh, is over one end of the gallery." It was with this very sentence that Fruin had begun his story of the previous night. Evidently it was a stereotyped formula with him when recounting his ghostly experiences, not to be abandoned any more than the orthodox "Once upon a time" of the fairy stories. "This morning about three o'clock I fancied I heard a noise as if some one were walking up and down here; I got up and looked out of the window, and I could see a light shining through the casements below on to the lawn. This light kept appearing and disappearing, as if the person in the gallery were walking to and fro with a lamp. I put on my things and came downstairs----" "Didn't you wake some of the others?" interrupted the Baronet. "No, Sir Hugh." "Why not?" "Because I knew none of them would come. It isn't the first time nor yet the second that we've heard queer sounds coming from this hall at night, and once when I did try to persuade the others to come down with me to find out what the matter was, not one of them would leave their beds, so I didn't try last night." "Cowards! Why did you not come to me, Fruin?" "Or to me?" groaned Angelo.