I rang the bell, and desired that one Edward Cooke, an attached servant of the family, should be sent to me.
I told him distinctly and briefly the nature of the service required of him, and, attended by him, my father and I proceeded at once to the study. The door of the inner room was still closed, and everything in the outer chamber remained in the same order in which I had left it.
We then advanced to the closet-door, at which we knocked, but without receiving any answer.
We next tried to open the door, but in vain; it was locked upon the inside. We knocked more loudly, but in vain.
Seriously alarmed, I desired the servant to force the door, which was, after several violent efforts, accomplished, and we entered the closet.
Lord Glenfallen was lying on his face upon a sofa.
“Hush!” said I; “he is asleep.” We paused for a moment.
“He is too still for that,” said my father.
We all of us felt a strong reluctance to approach the figure.
“Edward,” said I, “try whether your master sleeps.”