old
and moist. I could have sworn it was somebody's hand. My flesh began to
creep instantly.

"Who's that?" I exclaimed in a loud voice.

My voice dropped into the silence like a pebble into a deep well. There
was no answer, but at the same moment I heard someone moving away from
me across the room in the direction of the door. It was a confused sort
of footstep, and the sound of garments brushing the furniture on the
way. The same second my hand stumbled upon the matchbox, and I struck a
light. I expected to see Mrs. Monson, or Emily, or perhaps the son who
is something on an omnibus. But the flare of the gas jet illumined an
empty room; there was not a sign of a person anywhere. I felt the hair
stir upon my head, and instinctively I backed up against the wall, lest
something should approach me from behind. I was distinctly alarmed. But
the next minute I recovered myself. The door was open on to the landing,
and I crossed the room, not without some inward trepidation, and went
out. The light from the room fell upon the stairs, but there was no one
to be seen anywhere, nor was there any sound on the creaking wooden
staircase to indicate a departing creature.

I was in the act of turning to go in again when a sound overhead caught
my ear. It was a very faint sound, not unlike the sigh of wind; yet it
could not have been the wind, for the night was still as the grave.
Though it was not repeated, I resolved to go upstairs and see for myself
what it all meant. Two senses had been affected--touch and hearing--and
I could not believe that I had been deceived. So, with a lighted candle,
I went stealthily forth on my unpleasant journey into the upper regions
of this queer little old house.

On the first landing there was only one door, and it was locked. On the
second there was also only one door, but when I turned the handle it
opened. There came forth to meet me the chill musty air that is
characteristic of a long unoccupied room. With it there came an
indescribable odour. I use the adjective advisedly. Though very faint,
diluted as it were, it was nevertheless an odour that made my gorge
rise. I had never smelt anything like it before, and I cannot describe
it.

The room was small and square, close under the roof, with a sloping
ceiling and two tiny windows. It was cold as the grave, without a shred
of carpet or a stick of furniture. The icy atmosphere and the nameless
odour combined to make the room abominable to me,