And Mrs. Carlyon forthwith related the whole story of her fright in the dusky corridor. Dr. Spreckley listened attentively.
"What it was I know not, Doctor: whether man or woman, ghost or goblin. A silent shadowy form glided past me, imparting to me the most intense terror, and vanishing almost as soon as it had passed."
"One of the young servants, ma'am," emphatically spoke the Doctor.
"No. Every inmate of the house was in the kitchen, or about it, as I have told you. I saw them all when I ran down. Whoever or whatever it was, it was not a servant."
"Could it have been young Stone? Had he gone upstairs for any purpose?"
"No, no, no. Hubert Stone would not have been gliding about the corridors in that silent, stealthy manner. Hubert Stone was not at home that evening; he was spending it with Dr. Jago."
"True," nodded the Doctor. He remembered that Hubert had gone out with Jago after the reading of the will, the same mourning coach conveying them to the latter's residence.
"Was this in the north wing?" he asked.
"I do not know," answered Mrs. Carlyon. "Ella thinks it was. I took the wrong turning in the dark and lost myself, and goodness knows where I got to."
"It must have been the north wing," interposed Ella. "The stairs my aunt ran down lead direct from it."