at I can't say."

"A month? a week?"

"Probably a week."

"Then you can do what I want. Miss--"

"Saunders," I put in.

"There is something in that house which belongs to me."

I started; this was hardly what I expected her to say.

"Something of great importance to me; something which I must have and
have very soon. I don't want to go there for it myself. I hid it in a
very safe place one day when my future looked doubtful, and I didn't
know where I might be going or what might happen to me. Mrs. Packard
would think it strange if she saw where, and might make it very
uncomfortable for me. But you can get what I want without trouble if you
are not afraid of going about the house at night. It's a little box with
my name on it; and it is hidden--"

"Where?"

"Behind a brick I loosened in the cellar wall. I can describe the very
place. Oh, you think I am asking too much of you--a stranger and a
lady."

"No, I'm willing to do what I can for you. But I think you ought to tell
me what's in the box, so that I shall know exactly what I am doing."

"I can't tell; I do not dare to tell till I have it again in my own
hand. Then we will look it over together. Do you hesitate? You needn't;
no inconvenience will follow to any one, if you are careful to rely on
yourself and not let any other person see or handle this box."

"How large is it?" I asked, quite as breathless as herself, as I
realized the possibilities underlying this remarkable request.

"It is so small that you can conceal it under an apron or in the pocket
of your coat. In exchange for it, I will give you all I can afford--ten
dollars."

"No more than that?" I asked, testing her.

"No more at first. Afterward--if it brings me what it ought to, I will
give you whatever you think it is worth. Does that satisfy you? Are you
willing to risk an encounter with the ghost, for just ten dollars and a
promise?"

The smile with which she said this was indescribable. I think it gave
me a more thrilling consciousness of human terror in face of the
supernatural than anything which I had yet heard in this connection.
Surely her motive for remaining in the haunted house had been
extraordinarily strong.

"You are afraid," she declared. "You will shrink, when the time comes,
from going into that cellar at night."

I shook my head; I had already regained both my will-power and the
resolution to carry out this adventure to the end.

"I will go," said I.

"And g