The man was there and then he was not.

It could not be Garay, but his ghost, some illusion, a trick of the eye or mind.

Then he knew it was no fancy.

With extraordinary assurance the man had come there to rifle the drawer--for what purpose Robert knew not.
He ran to the window, but saw nothing save the peaceful night, the waving trees and the quiet lawn lying beyond.

Then he walked to the chest and examined the third drawer, noticing new scratches around the lock.