will bring him, I will hand it
over to him here."

Not a word of her adventure; nor so much as one glance at Mr. Van
Broecklyn, standing far back in the shadows.

* * * * *

Nor was she more communicative, when, the formula restored and
everything made right with Mr. Spielhagen, they all came together again
in the library for a final word.

"I was frightened by the silence and the darkness, and so cried out,"
she explained in answer to their questions. "Anyone would have done so
who found himself alone in so musty a place," she added, with an attempt
at lightsomeness which deepened the pallor on Mr. Van Broecklyn's
cheek, already sufficiently noticeable to have been remarked upon by
more than one.

"No ghosts?" laughed Mr. Cornell, too happy in the return of his hopes
to be fully sensible of the feelings of those about him. "No whispers
from impalpable lips or touches from spectre hands? Nothing to explain
the mystery of that room so long shut up that even Mr. Van Broecklyn
declares himself ignorant of its secret?"

"Nothing," returned Violet, showing her dimples in full force now.

"If Miss Strange had any such experiences--if she has anything to tell
worthy of so marked a curiosity, she will tell it now," came from the
gentleman just alluded to, in tones so stern and strange that all show
of frivolity ceased on the instant. "Have you anything to tell, Miss
Strange?"

Greatly startled, she regarded him with widening eyes for a moment, then
with a move towards the door, remarked, with a general look about her:

"Mr. Van Broecklyn knows his own house, and doubtless can relate its
histories if he will. I am a busy little body who having finished my
work am now ready to return home, there to wait for the next problem
which an indulgent fate may offer me."

She was near the threshold--she was about to take her leave, when
suddenly she felt two hands fall on her shoulder, and turning, met the
eyes of Mr. Van Broecklyn burning into her own.

"_You saw!_" dropped in an almost inaudible whisper from his lips.

The shiver which shook her answered him better than any word.

With an exclamation of despair, he withdrew his hands, and facing the
others now standing together recovered some of his self-possession:

"I must ask for another hour of your company. I can no longer keep my
sorrow to myself. A dividing line has just been drawn across my life,
and I must have the sympathy of som