Publisher's Synopsis
One day in late September I received the following letter from my lawyer: - "My Dear Bell, - "I shall esteem it a favour if you can make it convenient to call upon me at ten o'clock to-morrow morning on a matter of extreme privacy." At the appointed hour I was shown into Mr. Edgcombe's private room. I had known him for years-we were, in fact, old friends-and I was startled now by the look of worry, not to say anxiety, on his usually serene features. "You are the very man I want, Bell," he cried. "Sit down; I have a great deal to say to you. There is a mystery of a very grave nature which I hope you may solve for me. It is in connection with a house said to be haunted." He fixed his bright eyes on my face as he spoke. I sat perfectly silent, waiting for him to continue. "In the first place," he resumed, "I must ask you to regard the matter as confidential." "Certainly," I answered
