No soul within the residence had sensed the danger lurking within for the girl except one faithful servitor; JTyra's pet collie, which stirred uneasily in its sleep in the lower hall. The dog had sniffed, its hair rising stiffly along the scruff of its neck and it had backed into a corner with a low growl. Then it had curled up again, looking about the dim corridor with watchful eyes.

The Materialisation. Within the wardrobe a strange thing was taking place. The gruy spirit, which seemed of no more substance than the shadow of smoke, was becoming more solidified. Now lumps seemed twisting and forming in a queer kaleidoscopic manner, whirling about madly. Gradually it assumed a definite shape; legs and arms appeared, likewise a crooked, knotted neck, until finally a crude head with twisted features. It seemed barely human, this brutish figure crowding the silken gowns of the narrow wardrobe. Yet gradually it was pulled by some unseen creative power, from a shape resembling a rough hewn clay figure into the figure of a man. The door of the wardrobe opened and the figure, walking clumsily, passed out through the portal into the girl's bedroom. There was merely the vestige of resemblance between this mottled, hideous monster and the swarthy, handsome Arthur Varney. Yet as it passed the mirror its smudgy eyes turned toward the fearsome reflection. The figure started back in terror; the block-like fingers went up in a gesture of dismay.

The materialized astral walked toward the bed, leaning over the sleeping girl. The figure walked toward the dressing-room.  Table and lifted up Myra's shears. It returned to the bedside and raising them up, dagger-like, was about to plunge them into the bosom. 