"What do you mean?—don't speak riddles," said Ashwoode.
"I mean this, then," replied the Italian; "something came to him—something was in the room when he died."
"How do you know that?" inquired the young man.
"I heard him talking loudly with it," replied he—"talking and praying it to go away from him."
"Why did you not come into the room yourself?" asked Ashwoode.
"So I did, Diamine, so I did," replied he.
"Well, what saw you?"
"Nothing bote Sir Richard, dead—quite dead; and the far door was bolted inside, just so as he always used to do; and when the candle went out, the thing was here again. I heard it myself, as sure as I am leeving man—I heard it—close up with me—by the body."
"Tut, tut, man; speak sense. Do you mean to say that anyone talked with you?" said Ashwoode.
"I mean this, that something was in the chamber with me beside the dead man," replied the valet, doggedly. "I heard it with my own ears. Zucche! I moste 'av been deaf, if I did not hear it. It said 'hish,' and then again, close up to my face, it said it—'hish, hish,' and laughed below its breath. Pah! the place smelt of brimstone."