door was softly turned. Mrs. Markham also remembered distinctly that
only a week before, being unable to sleep, she had ventured out into the
saloon in a dressing-gown to get her diary, which she had left with a
portfolio on a chair; that she had a sudden consciousness of another
presence in the saloon, although she could distinguish nothing by the
dim light of the swinging lantern; and that, after quickly returning to
her room, she was quite positive she heard a door close. But the most
surprising reminiscence developed by the late incident was from Mrs.
Brimmer's nurse, Susan. As it, apparently, demonstrated the fact that
Mr. Hurlstone not only walked but TALKED in his sleep, it possessed
a more mysterious significance. It seemed that Susan was awakened one
night by the sound of voices, and, opening her door softly, saw a figure
which she at first supposed to be the Senor Perkins, but which she now
was satisfied was poor Mr. Hurlstone. As there was no one else to be
seen, the voices must have proceeded from that single figure; and being
in a strange and unknown tongue, were inexpressibly weird and awful.
When pressed to remember what was said, she could only distinguish one
word--a woman's name--Virgil--Vigil--no: Virginescia!

"It must have been one of those creatures at Callao, whose pictures you
can buy for ten cents," said Mrs. Brimmer.

"If it is one of them, Susan must have made a mistake in the first two
syllables of the name," said Mrs. Markham grimly.

"But surely, Miss Keene," said Miss Chubb, turning to that young lady,
who had taken only the part of a passive listener to this colloquy, and
was gazing over the railing at the sinking sun, "surely YOU can tell
us something about this poor young man. If I don't mistake, you are the
only person he ever honored with his conversation."