st have found his way by the aid
of some sixth sense. At any rate, I saw nothing of the house until I
stood some five paces from the steps leading up to the porch. A light
was burning in the hall-way, but dimly and inhospitably; of the facade
of the building I could perceive little.

When we entered the hall and the door was closed behind us, I began
wondering anew what purpose my friend hoped to serve by a vigil in
this haunted place. There was a light in the library, the door of
which was ajar, and on the large table were decanters, a siphon, and
some biscuits and sandwiches. A large grip stood upon the floor also.
For some reason which was a mystery to me, Smith had decided that we
must assume false names whilst under the roof of The Gables; and--

"Now, Pearce," he said, "a whisky-and-soda before we look around?"

The proposal was welcome enough, for I felt strangely dispirited, and,
to tell the truth, in my strange disguise not a little ridiculous.

All my nerves, no doubt, were highly strung, and my sense of hearing
unusually acute, for I went in momentary expectation of some uncanny
happening. I had not long to wait. As I raised the glass to my lips
and glanced across the table at my friend, I heard the first faint
sound heralding the coming of the bells.

It did not seem to proceed from anywhere within the library, but from
some distant room, far away overhead. A musical sound it was, but
breaking in upon the silence of that ill-omened house, its music was
the music of terror. In a faint and very sweet cascade it rippled; a
ringing as of tiny silver bells.

I set down my glass upon the table, and rising slowly from the chair
in which I had been seated, stared fixedly at my companion, who was
staring with equal fixity at me. I could see that I had not been
deluded; Nayland Smith had heard the ringing, too.

"The ghosts waste no time!" he said softly. "This is not new to me; I
spent an hour here last night--and heard the same sound...."

I glanced hastily around the room. It was furnished as a library, and
contained a considerable collection of works, principally novels. I
was unable to judge of the outlook, for the two lofty windows were
draped with heavy purple curtains which were drawn close. A
silk-shaded lamp swung from the centre of the ceiling, and immediately
over the table by which I stood. There was much shadow about the room;
and now I glanced apprehensively about me, but specially toward the
o