ctively
into the flames. He was not thinking of Mrs. Renwood's amiable ghost.

How long she had been asleep, Penelope did not know. She awoke with a
start, her flesh creeping. A nameless dread came over her; she felt
that she was utterly alone and surrounded by horrors. It was a full
minute--a sickening hour, it seemed--before she realized that she was
in the room with the man she loved. Her frightened eyes caught sight
of him lying back in the chair before the dying fire in the chimney
place. The lights were low, the shadows gaunt and chill.

A terrified exclamation started to her lips. Her ears again caught the
sound of some one moving in the house--some alien visitor. There
was no mistaking the sound--the distant, sepulchral laugh and the
shuffling of feet, almost at the edge of the couch it seemed.

"Randolph!" she whispered hoarsely. The man in the chair did not move.
She threw off the blanket and came to a sitting posture on the side of
the couch, her fingers clutching the covering with tense horror. Again
the soft, rumbling laugh and the sound of footsteps on the stairway.
Like a flash she sped across the room and clutched frantically at
Randolph's shoulders. He awoke with an exclamation, staring bewildered
into the horrified face above.

"The--the ghost!" she gasped, her eyes glued upon the hall door. He
leaped to his feet and threw his arms about her.

"You've had a bad dream," he said. "What a beast I was to fall asleep.
Lord, you're frightened half out of your wits. Don't tremble so,
dearest. There's no ghost. Every one knows--"

"Listen--listen!" she whispered. Together they stood motionless,
almost breathless before the fire, the glow from which threw their
shadows across the room to meet the mysterious invader.

"Good Lord," he muttered, unwilling to believe his ears. "There _is_
some one in the house. I've--I've heard sounds here before, but not
like these." Distinctly to their startled ears came the low, subdued
murmur of a human voice and then unmistakable moans from the very
depth of the earth--from the grave, it seemed.

"Do you hear?" she whispered. "Oh, this dreadful place! Take me away,
Randolph, dear--"

"Don't be afraid," he said, drawing her close. "There's nothing
supernatural about those sounds. They come from lips as much alive as
ours. I'll investigate." He grabbed the heavy poker from the chimney
corner, and started toward the door. She followed close behind, his
assurance restor