It was an immense relief when I saw Quarles and another man, the agent, come through the gate.
It was between eight and nine, and I retired to the basement to be out of the way. The agent stayed about half an hour, and they were chiefly in the haunted room together.
"I sincerely hope your report will set at rest this silly idea that the house is haunted," I heard the agent say as they came down to the hall. "When my client returns he will be pretty mad about it."
"When does he return?" asked Quarles.
"I don't know. I haven't had a line from him since he went away, but the sum I have received for him in rent doesn't amount to much, I can tell you."
I expected to find the professor rather ill-tempered at my interference, but I found him inclined to raillery.
"Are you hunting a murderer or a ghost, Wigan?" he asked.
"I am not quite sure, but I think at the back of my mind there is an idea to keep you out of the clutches of the subtle personality of whom you are afraid. Come up to the haunted room; we will talk there, but it must be in whispers. If I have had any success it is believed that you are in this house alone to-night."
"A foolish old man alone, eh?"
"In this instance I am inclined to answer yes."