suggest, a figment of my own diseased brain, and therefore just as
horrible as a real apparition; or it is a supernatural visitation.
Whether it exists or not, it is reality to me and in no way a dream. The
full horror of it is present with me in my waking moments."

"Do you think anyone is playing an awful practical joke?" I suggested.

"Certainly not. What object can anyone have in scaring me to death?
Besides, there is no one in the room, that I can swear. My outer door is
locked, Lady Studley's outer door is locked. It is impossible that there
can be any trickery in the matter."

I said nothing for a moment. I no more believed in ghosts than I ever
did, but I felt certain that there was grave mischief at work. Sir Henry
must be the victim of a hallucination. This might only be caused by
functional disturbance of the brain, but it was quite serious enough to
call for immediate attention. The first thing to do was to find out
whether the apparition could be accounted for in any material way, or if
it were due to the state of Sir Henry's nerves. I began to ask him
certain questions, going fully into the case in all its bearings. I then
examined his eyes with the ophthalmoscope. The result of all this was to
assure me beyond doubt that Sir Henry Studley was in a highly nervous
condition, although I could detect no trace of brain disease.

"Do you mind taking me to your room?" I said.

"Not to-night," he answered. "It is late, and Lady Studley might express
surprise. The object of my life is to conceal this horror from her. When
she is out to-morrow you shall come to the room and judge for yourself."