's room opened one night, as he sat late over
his work, and Mr Sharnall entered. His face was pale, and there was a
startled, wide-open look in his eyes that Westray did not like.

"I wish you would come down to my room for a minute," the organist said;
"I want to change the place of my piano, and can't move it by myself."

"Isn't it rather late to-night?" Westray said, pulling at his watch,
while the deep and slow melodious chimes of Saint Sepulchre told the
dreaming town and the silent sea-marshes that it lacked but a quarter of
an hour to midnight. "Wouldn't it be better to do it to-morrow
morning?"

"Couldn't you come down to-night?" the organist asked; "it wouldn't take
you a minute."

Westray caught the disappointment in the tone.

"Very well," he said, putting his drawing-board aside. "I've worked at
this quite long enough; let us shift your piano."

They went down to the ground-floor.

"I want to turn the piano right-about-face," the organist said, "with
its back to the room and the keyboard to the wall--the keyboard quite
close to the wall, with just room for me to sit."

"It seems a curious arrangement," Westray criticised; "is it better
acoustically?"

"Oh, I don't know; but, if I want to rest a bit, I can put my back
against the wall, you see."

The change was soon accomplished, and they sat down for a moment before
the fire.

"You keep a good fire," Westray said, "considering it is bed-time."
And, indeed, the coals were piled high, and burning fiercely.

The organist gave them a poke, and looked round as if to make sure that
they were alone.

"You'll think me a fool," he said; "and I am. You'll think I've been
drinking, and I have. You'll think I'm drunk, but I'm not. Listen to
me: I'm not drunk; I'm only a coward. Do you remember the very first
night you and I walked home to this house together? Do you remember the
darkness and the driving rain, and how scared I was when we passed the
Old Bonding-house? Well, it was beginning then, but it's much worse
now. I had a horrible idea even then that there was something always
following me--following me close. I didn't know what it was--I only
knew there was _something_ close behind me."

His manner and appearance alarmed Westray. The organist's face was very
pale, and a curious raising of the eyelids, which showed the whites of
the eyes above the pupils, gave him the staring appearance of one
confronted suddenly with some ghastly sp