“That I am not ready to say,” was my cautious response.  “Mrs. Packard, during the period of her husband’s candidacy, would scarcely wish to draw public attention to herself or these supernatural happenings by any such move.  I hope that what I say to you on this subject will go no further.”

“You may rest assured that it will never become public property,” he assured me.  “One person I am bound to tell; but that is all.  That person is too much interested in the house’s good name to spread so damaging a story.  An experience, more or less disagreeable, must have occurred to some member of the family,” continued Mr. Robinson.  “Your presence here assures me of that.  What kind of experience?  The—­manifestations have not always been of the same nature.”

“No; and that is what so engages my attention.  These experiences differ so much in their character.  Do you happen to know the exact nature of each?  I have a theory which I long to substantiate.  May I trust you with it?”

“You certainly may, Miss.  No one has thought over this matter more earnestly than I have.  Not because of any superstitious tendency on my part; rather from the lack of it.  I don’t believe in spirits.  I don’t believe in supernatural agencies of any kind; yet strange things do happen in that house, things which we find it hard to explain.”

“Mrs. Packard’s experience was this.  She believes herself to have encountered in the library the specter of a man; a specter with a gaze so terrifying that it impressed itself upon her as an omen of death, or some other dire disaster.  What have your other tenants seen?”

“Shadows mostly; but not always.  Sometimes the outline of an arm projecting out of darkness; sometimes, the trace of steps on the hall floors, or the discovery in the morning of an open door which had been carefully closed at bedtime.  Once it was the trailing of ghostly fingers across the sleeper’s face, and once a succession of groans rising from the lower halls and drawing the whole family from their beds, to find no one but themselves within the whole four walls.  A clearly outlined phantom has been scarce.  But Mrs. Packard has seen one, you say.”

“Thinks she has seen one,” I corrected.  “Mayor Packard and myself both look upon the occurrence as a wholly imaginary one, caused by her secret brooding over the very manifestations you mention.  If she could be convinced that these manifestations had a physical origin, she would immediately question the reality of the specter she now believes herself to have seen.  To bring her to this point I am ready to exert myself to the utmost.  Are you willing to do the same?  If so, I can assure you of Mayor Packard’s appreciation.”

“How?  What?  You believe the whole thing a fraud?  That all these tenants coming from various quarters manufactured all these stories and submitted to endless inconvenience to perpetuate a senseless lie?”