Vrain than I am that she was the woman whose shadow I saw on the blind.
Whosoever it was that gained entrance by passing over fence and through
cellar, must have come across the yard belonging to the house facing the
other road. Therefore, the person must be known to the owner of that
house, and I must discover who the owner is. Miss Greeb will know."

Lucian made this last remark with the greatest confidence, as he was
satisfied, from a long acquaintance with his landlady, that there was
very little concerning her own neighbourhood of which she was ignorant.
The result verified his belief, for when Miss Greeb came in to clear the
table--a duty she invariably undertook so as to have a chance of
conversing with her admired lodger--she was able to afford him the
fullest information on the subject. The position of the house in
question; the name of its owner; the character of its tenants; she was
thoroughly well posted up in every item, and willingly imparted her
knowledge with much detail and comment.

"No. 9 Jersey Street," said she, unhesitatingly; "that is the number of
the house at the back of the haunted mansion, Mr. Denzil. I know it as
well as I know my ten fingers."

"To whom does it belong?" asked Lucian.

"Mr. Peacock; he owns most of the property round about here, having
bought up the land when the place was first built on. He's seventy years
of age, you know, Mr. Denzil," continued Miss Greeb conversationally,
"and rich!--Lord! I don't know how rich he is! Building houses cheap and
letting them dear; he has made more out of that than in sanding his
sugar and chicorying his coffee. He----"

"What is the name of the tenant?" interrupted Lucian, cutting short
this rapid sketch of Peacock's life.

"Mrs. Bensusan, one of the largest women hereabouts."

"I don't quite understand."

"Fat, Mr. Denzil. She turns the scale at eighteen stone, and has pretty
well broke every weighing machine in the place."

"What reputation has she, Miss Greeb?"

"Oh, pretty good," said the little woman, shrugging her shoulders,
"though they do say she overcharges and underfeeds her lodgers."

"She keeps a boarding-house, then?"

"Well, she lets rooms," explained Miss Greeb in a very definite manner,
"and those who live in them supply their own food, and pay for service
and kitchen fire."

"Who is with her now?"

"No one," replied the landlady promptly. "She's had her bill up these
three months. Her last lodger left abou