"This is my story," I said. "I went into your room, put out all the lights, and sat on the edge of the bed."
"You did not get into bed, then?"
"No, I preferred to be up and to be ready for immediate action should the apparition, the horror, or whatever you call it, appear."
"Good God, it is a horror, Halifax!"
"It is, Sir Henry. A more diabolical contrivance for frightening a man into his grave could scarcely have been contrived. I can comfort you on one point, however. The terrible thing you saw is not a figment of your brain. There is no likelihood of a lunatic asylum in your case. Someone is playing you a trick."
"I cannot agree with you—but proceed," said the baronet, impatiently.
"I sat for about an hour on the edge of the bed," I continued. "When I entered the room it was twelve o'clock—one had sounded before there was the least stir or appearance of anything, then the ticking noise you have described was distinctly audible. This was followed by a sudden bright light, which seemed to proceed out of the recesses of the wardrobe."
"What did you feel when you saw that light?"
"Too excited to be nervous," I answered, briefly. "Out of the circle of light the horrible eye looked at me."
"What did you do then? Did you faint?"