son grew cold, for he saw there the very
counterpart of the eyes of the great rat. The lamp almost fell from
his hand, he saw the rat with its baleful eyes peering out through the
hole in the corner of the picture, and noted the sudden cessation of
the noise of the other rats. However, he pulled himself together, and
went on with his examination of the picture.

The Judge was seated in a great high-backed carved oak chair, on the
right-hand side of a great stone fireplace where, in the corner, a
rope hung down from the ceiling, its end lying coiled on the floor.
With a feeling of something like horror, Malcolmson recognised the
scene of the room as it stood, and gazed around him in an awestruck
manner as though he expected to find some strange presence behind him.
Then he looked over to the corner of the fireplace--and with a loud
cry he let the lamp fall from his hand.

There, in the Judge's arm-chair, with the rope hanging behind, sat the
rat with the Judge's baleful eyes, now intensified and with a fiendish
leer. Save for the howling of the storm without there was silence.

The fallen lamp recalled Malcolmson to himself. Fortunately it was of
metal, and so the oil was not spilt. However, the practical need of
attending to it settled at once his nervous apprehensions. When he had
turned it out, he wiped his brow and thought for a moment.

'This will not do,' he said to himself. 'If I go on like this I shall
become a crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor I would not
take tea. Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have been getting
into a queer state. Funny I did not notice it. I never felt better in
my life. However, it is all right now, and I shall not be such a fool
again.'

Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and
resolutely sat down to his work.

It was nearly an hour when he looked up from his book, disturbed by
the sudden stillness. Without, the wind howled and roared louder than
ever, and the rain drove in sheets against the windows, beating like
hail on the glass; but within there was no sound whatever save the
echo of the wind as it roared in the great chimney, and now and then a
hiss as a few raindrops found their way down the chimney in a lull of
the storm. The fire had fallen low and had ceased to flame, though it
threw out a red glow. Malcolmson listened attentively, and presently
heard a thin, squeaking noise, very faint. It came from the corner of
the room