rd Stanbridge."

"Suppose we--" began James. He was about to suggest following the
prints, when he remembered Doctor Gordon's injunction to the contrary.

However, Aaron anticipated him. "Might as well leave the devil alone,"
said he. "It might have been the old one himself, for all we can tell by
them tracks. You had better go back to bed, Doctor Elliot. You ain't got
much on. It ain't near breakfast time yet. Better go back to bed."

And James thought such a course the wiser one himself. He went back to
bed, but not to sleep. He kept his eyes fixed upon the windows. He was
prepared at any instant, should the man reappear, to spring out. He felt
almost murderous. "It has come to a pretty pass," he thought, "if that
scoundrel, whoever he may be, is lurking around the house at night."

The daylight came slowly on account of the storm. When it did come, it
was an opaque white daylight. James began to smell coffee and frying
ham. He rose and dressed himself, and looked out of the window. It was
like looking into a blurred mirror. He began to wonder if he could have
been mistaken, if possibly that face had been simply a vision which had
come from his overwrought brain. He wondered if he should tell Doctor
Gordon, if it might not disturb him unnecessarily. He wondered if he
should have enforced secrecy upon Aaron. He was still undecided when the
Japanese gong sounded, and he went out to breakfast. Clemency was
looking worn and ill. Somehow the sight of her piteous little face
decided James. He thought how easily an athletic man could climb up one
of those piazza posts, which was, moreover, encircled by a strong old
vine which might almost serve as ladder. He made up his mind to tell
Doctor Gordon, and he did tell him when they were out upon their rounds,
tilting and sliding along the drifted country roads in an old sleigh. "I
don't think I can be mistaken," he said when he had finished.

Doctor Gordon looked at him intently. "You are sure," he said. "You are
a nervous subject for a man, and you had not slept, and you had this man
very much on your mind, and there must have been some snow on the
window which could produce an illusion. Be very sure, because this is
serious."

James thought again of Clemency's little white face. "Yes," he said, "I
am sure."

"You have no doubt at all?"

"None. The man had his face staring into the room. He did not seem to
see me, but looked past me at the bed."

"He might easily have