We proceeded to the top-storey of the house. Two or three times, by the way, I thought I observed in the indistinct light the skirts of a female figure going up before us. As we turned to ascend the last flight of stairs between us and the roof, we caught a full view of this figure pausing for a moment, at a door. Then it turned the handle, and went in.

“What’s this!” said Martha, in a whisper. “She has gone into my room. I don’t know her!”

I knew her. I had recognized her with amazement, for Miss Dartle.