"Augustina told me there was a letter for me this evening."
"Of course. It is here on the mantelpiece. I ought to have remembered it."
He took up the letter and held it towards her. Then suddenly he paused, and sharply withdrawing it, he placed it on a table beside him, and laid his hand upon it. She saw a flash of quick resolution in his face, and her own pulses gave a throb.
"Miss Fountain, will you excuse my detaining you for a moment? I have been thinking much about this old man's story, and the possible explanation of it. It struck me in a very singular way. As you know, I have never paid much attention to the ghost story here—we have never before had a testimony so direct. Is it possible—that you might throw some light upon it? You left us, you remember, after dinner. Did you by chance go into the garden?—the evening was tempting, I think. If so, your memory might possibly recall to you some—slight thing."
"Yes," she said, after a moment's hesitation, "I did go into the garden."
His eye gleamed. He came a step nearer.
"Did you see or hear anything—to explain what happened?"
She did not answer for a moment. She made a vague movement, as though to recover her letter—looked curiously into a glass case that stood beside her, containing a few Stuart relics and autographs. Then, with absolute self-possession, she turned and confronted him, one hand resting on the glass case.
"Yes; I can explain it all. I was the ghost!"
There was a moment's silence. A smile—a smile that she winced under, showed itself on Helbeck's lip.