We stayed all together in the billiard-room
until nearly midnight, and then loitered about in the hall, talking in
an aimless sort of fashion. But at last Mrs. Carson said good-night,
with a confidential nod to me, and Miss Stonor murmured, ‘So many
thanks; I’ve got it,’ and they both went upstairs. George and I parted
in the corridor above. Our rooms were opposite each other. “I did not begin undressing at once, but sat down and tried to piece
together some theory to account for the uncanniness of things. But the
more I thought, the more perplexing it became. There was no doubt
whatever that I had put my hand on something extremely alive and
extremely unpleasant the night before. The bare recollection of it made
me shudder. What living thing could possibly be creeping about the house
in the dark? It was a man’s hand. Of that I was certain from the size of
it. George Carson was out of the question, for he was in his room all
the time. Nor was it likely that Mr. Carson, senior, would steal about
his own house in his socks and refuse to answer when spoken to. The only
other man in the house was an eminently respectable-looking butler; and
his hand, as I had noted particularly when he poured out my wine at
dinner, was plump and soft, whereas the mysterious hand on the
balustrade was thin and bony. And then, what was the real explanation of
the face which had appeared to the two ladies? Indigestion might have
explained either singly. Extraordinary coincidences do sometimes occur,
but it seemed too extraordinary that a couple of ladies--one old and one
young--should suffer from the same indigestion in the same house, at the
same time, and with the same symptoms. On the whole, I did not feel at
all comfortable, and looked carefully in all the cupboards and recesses,
as well as under the bed, before starting to undress. Then I went to the
door, intending to lock it. Just as my hand was upon the key, I heard a
soft step in the corridor outside, accompanied by a sound which was
something between a sigh and a groan. Very faint, but quite
unmistakable, and, under the circumstances, discomposing. It might, of
course, be George. Anyhow, I decided to look and see. I turned the
handle gently and opened the door. There was nothing to be seen in the
corridor. But on the opposite side I could see a door open, and George’s
head peeping round the corner. “‘Hullo!’ he said. “‘Hullo!’ I replied. “‘Was that you walking up the passage?’ he asked. “‘No,’ I answered, ‘I thought it might be you.’

“‘Then who the devil was it?’ he said. ‘I’ll swear I heard someone.’

“There was silence for a few moments. I was wondering whether I had
better tell him of the fright I had already had, when he spoke again:

“‘I say, just come here for a bit, old fellow; I want to speak to you.’

“I stepped across the passage, and we went together into the little
study which adjoined his bedroom. “‘Look here,’ he said, poking up the fire, which was burning low,
‘doesn’t it strike you that there is something very odd about this
house?’

“‘You mean----’

“‘Well, I wouldn’t say anything about it to the master or Miss Stonor
for fear of frightening them. All the same, scarcely a night passes but
I hear curious footsteps on the stairs. You’ve heard them yourself,
haven’t you?’

“‘Now you mention it,’ I said, ‘I confess I have.’

“‘And, what is more,’ he continued, ‘I was sitting here two nights ago
half asleep, and--it seems ridiculous, I know, but it’s a fact--I
suddenly saw a horrible face glaring at me from between those curtains
behind you. It was gone in a moment, but I saw it as plainly as I see
you.’

“I moved my seat uneasily. “‘Did you look in your bedroom or in the passage?’ I asked. “‘Yes--at once,’ he replied. ‘There was nothing to be seen; but twice
again that night I heard footsteps passing--good God!’

“He started up in his chair, staring straight over my shoulder. I turned
quickly and saw the curtains which parted off the bedroom swing
together. “‘What is it?’ I asked, breathlessly. “‘I saw it again--the same face--between the curtains.’

“I tore the hangings aside, and rushed into the next room. It was empty. The lamp was burning upon a side table, and the door was open, just as
George had left it. In the passage outside all was quiet. I came back
into the study and found George running his fingers through his hair in
perplexity. “‘There is clearly one person too many in the house,’ I said. ‘I think
we ought to draw the place and find out who it is.’

“‘All right,’ said he, picking up the poker from the fireplace; ‘if it’s
anything made of flesh and blood this will be useful, and if not----’

“He stopped short, for at that instant the most awful shriek of horror
rang through the house--a shriek of wild, uncontrollable terror, such as
I had never heard before and I never hope to hear again. One moment we
stood staring at each other, dumbfounded. The next George Carson had
dashed out of the room and down the corridor to the stairs. I followed
close behind him. For we both knew that none but a woman in mortal fear
would shriek like that, and that that woman was Miss Stonor. “Down the stairs we tumbled pell-mell in the darkness. But before I
reached the landing below, where Miss Stonor’s room was, I felt, as I
had felt the evening before, something brush swiftly past me. As I ran I
turned and caught at it in the dark. But my hand gripped only empty air. I was just about to turn back and follow it, when a cry from George
arrested me, and, looking down, I saw him standing over the prostrate
form of Miss Stonor. The door of her room was open, and by the moonlight
which streamed into the room I could see her lying in her white
nightdress across the threshold. What followed in the next few minutes
I can scarcely recall with accuracy. The whole house was aroused by the
poor girl’s awful shriek. She was quite unconscious when we came upon
her, but she revived more or less as soon as Mrs. Carson and one of the
terrified servants had lifted her into bed again. Nothing intelligible
could be gathered from her, however, as to the cause of her fright; she
only repeated, hysterically, again and again:

“‘Oh, the face; the face!’

“When I saw I could do her no further good for the present, I took
George by the arm and led him out of the room. “‘Look here, George,’ I said, ‘we must find out the reason of this at
once. I am certain I felt something go by me as I came downstairs. Now
does that staircase lead anywhere but to our rooms?’

“George considered for a moment. “‘Yes,’ he replied; ‘there is a door at the end of the passage which
leads up into a sort of lumber room.’

“‘Then we’ll explore it,’ I said. ‘For my part I can’t go to sleep until
I’ve got to the bottom of this. Get the man to bring a lantern along.’

“The butler looked as though he didn’t half like the enterprise, and, to
tell the truth, no more did I. It was the uncanniest job I ever
undertook. However, we started, the three of us.