"I have brought another visitor with me, Bob," I said, "but I can assure you it has accompanied me without any invitation."
"Is it here, then?" he asked, following the direction of my eyes.
"Yes, Bob, it is here." And as we walked to the old-fashioned house in which he rented one room at the top, I remarked, "Is it not singular that it did not come to the theater with me last night, and that it should accompany me now upon this friendly visit to you?" Bob nodded. "I am beginning to have theories about it," I continued, "and one is, that something will occur to-night in connection with the haunted house in Lamb's Terrace."
"Do not get too many fancies into your head, old fellow," said Bob.
"I will not get more than I can help, but ideas come without any active prompting or wish of my own; I am like a man who is being driven, or led."
Bob's one room was by no means uncomfortable; it served at once for his living and bedroom, but the bed he occupied being a folding bed, and the washstand he used being inclosed, it did not present the appearance of a bedroom. There were shelves on the walls containing a large number of books; four or five of these were on the table.
"Now, sir or madam," said I to the cat, "what do you think of Bob's residence, and what can we do to make you comfortable?"
The cat glided to the hearthrug and stretched itself upon it; I wrested my attention from the unpleasant object.
"I am very well off here," said Bob; "the landlady cooks my meals for me, and allows me to have them downstairs. I am at the top of the house, and there is a fine view from the roof; I often smoke for an hour there. You see that door in the corner; it is a closet, with a fixed flight of steps leading to the roof; in case of fire I should be safe. Sit in the armchair, Ned, and let us reason out things. I have been thinking a great deal about you to-day, and talking about you, too."
"That was scarcely right, Bob."