“It must be getting cold out, Michael,” she remarked.  “This package is as cold as ice.”

“It is, ma’am,” answered Michael, deferentially with a sidelong glance that did not prevent his watching her intently.

She closed the safe and, with a glance at her watch, set the time lock and went upstairs to her room.

No sooner had Elaine disappeared than Michael appeared again, cat-like, through the curtains from the drawing room, and, after a glance about the dimly lighted library, discovering that the coast was clear, motioned to a figure hiding behind the portieres.

A moment, and Clutching Hand himself came out.

He moved over to the safe and looked it over.  Then he put out his hand and touched it.

“Good, Michael,” he exclaimed with satisfaction.

“Listen!” cautioned Michael.

Someone was coming and they hastily slunk behind the protecting portieres.  It was Marie, Elaine’s maid.

She turned up the lights and went over to the desk for a book for which Elaine had evidently sent her.  She paused and appeared to be listening.  Then she went to the door.

“Jennings!” she beckoned.

“What is it, Marie?” he replied.

She said nothing, but as he came up the hall led him to the center of the room.

“Listen!  I heard sighs and groans!”

Jennings looked at her a moment, puzzled, then laughed.  “You girls!” he exclaimed.  “I suppose you’ll always think the library haunted, now.”

“But, Jennings, listen,” she persisted.

Jennings did listen.  Sure enough, there were sounds, weird, uncanny.  He gazed about the room.  It was eerie.  Then he took a few steps toward the safe.  Marie put out her hand to it, and started back.

“Why, that safe is all covered with cold sweat!” she cried with bated breath.

Sure enough the face of the safe was beaded with dampness.  Jennings put his hand on it and quickly drew it away, leaving a mark on the dampness.

“Wh-what do you think of that?” he gasped.

“I’m going to tell Miss Dodge,” cried Marie, genuinely frightened.

A moment later she burst into Elaine’s room.

“What is the matter, Marie?” asked Elaine, laying down her book.  “You look as if you had seen a ghost.”

“Ah, but, mademoiselle—­it ees just like that.  The safe—­if mademoiselle will come downstairs, I will show it you.”

Puzzled but interested, Elaine followed her.  In the library Jennings pointed mutely at the new safe.  Elaine approached it.  As they stood about new beads of perspiration, as it were, formed on it.  Elaine touched it, and also quickly withdrew her hand.

“I can’t imagine what’s the matter,” she said.  “But—­well—­ Jennings, you may go—­and Marie, also.”

When the servants had gone she still regarded the safe with the same wondering look, then turning out the light, she followed.