“I know,” said the rector, with a mysterious nod.
“Yes, Sir; and he told me he had been awake and heard a loud knocking in the drawing-room, like the hammering of a nail, as indeed it proved to be; and he ran up to the drawing-room, and saw nothing unusual there, and then to the lobby, and there he saw a tall figure in a white dress run up the stairs, with a tread that sounded like bare feet, and as it reached the top it threw a hammer backward which hopped down the steps to his feet. It was the kitchen hammer, unhung from the nail there which we found had been pulled out of the wall. Without waiting to get my clothes on, down I went with him, but our search showed nothing but one very curious discovery.”
“Ha! Go on, Sir.”
“I must tell you, Sir, there was a print, a German coloured thing. I had forgotten it—it was in my poor aunt’s portfolio in a drawer there, of a great tabby cat pretending to doze, and in reality slyly watching a mouse that half emerges from its hole, approaching a bit of biscuit, and this we found nailed to the middle of the door.”
“The inside?”
“Yes.”
“You did not see anything of the apparition yourself?” asked Doctor Wagget.
“No, I was asleep. I’ve seen nothing whatever but such things as I’ve described; and the fact is I’m worried to death, and I don’t in the least know what to do.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said the clergyman, after a pause. “I’ll go down and spend the night at Gilroyd, if you allow me, and we’ll get Doctor Drake to come also, if you approve, and we’ll watch, Sir—we’ll spy it out—we’ll get at the heart of the mystery. Drake’s afraid of nothing, no more am I—and what do you say, may we go?”
So the bargain was concluded, and at nine o’clock that evening the parson and Doctor Drake in friendly chat together walked up to the door of Gilroyd, and were welcomed by William, who led these learned witch-finders into his study, which commanded easy access to both drawing-room and parlour, and to the back and the great staircase.