"On several occasions on turning out the light in my bedroom and
looking across the lawn from my window I have observed the shadow of
someone--how do you say?--lurking in the garden."

"The shadow?"

"Precisely. The person himself was concealed beneath a tree. When he
moved his shadow was visible on the ground."

"You were not deceived by a waving branch?"

"Certainly not. I speak of a still, moonlight night."

"Possibly, then, it was the shadow of a tramp," suggested Harley. "I
gather that you refer to a house in the country?"

"It was not," declared Colonel Menendez, emphatically; "it was not. I
wish to God I could believe it had been. Then there was, a month ago,
an attempt to enter my house."

Paul Harley exhibited evidence of a quickening curiosity. He had
perceived, as I had perceived, that the manner of the speaker differed
from that of the ordinary victim of delusion, with whom he had become
professionally familiar.

"You had actual evidence of this?" he suggested.

"It was due to insomnia, sleeplessness, brought about, yes, I will
admit it, by apprehension, that I heard the footsteps of this